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D+ 0:03:35 (Fire Team Tango Mission Clock), October 15, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Dropship Kilo 133, En Route To Artifact Surface

      "I told you man, I thought he was a chick." Segur turned away from his squad in frustration and leaned against the window of the dropship's troop bay. The marine's destroyer, the Alamo, sped away from him, floating free in space. He shifted his gaze to the "artifact". It majestically swooped above him, almost ten thousand kilometers in diameter he'd heard. It looked almost like Earth on the inside. He squinted at one of the landmasses. "Africa?" he thought silently to himself. Sarge startled him off his train of thought with the usual pre-mission speech.

      "Okay men, listen up. We have one standing order for our mission. It is to perform guard duty around Alpha site. We'll be on duty for about twelve hours before the next shift relieves us. After that we may be doing a little exploring." He hinted at in a thick southern drawl. "What do you say to that, Wang?" Everyone in the unit chuckled. On the last mission Tango squad had been on, a simple firing exercise at Reach, PFC Wang had gotten himself lost in the wilderness. It had taken the better part of a day to find him by Pelican. Wang mumbled something under his breath and inspected his shotgun out of habit.

      "We'll touch down in sixty seconds." The copilot announced over the comm.

      In the cockpit, the pilot glanced at the radar screen. Funny, it showed two, make that three large masses in the system. But before he could even tell his copilot, he heard the marines in the back. Shouts of "Sweet Jesus!" and "Mother of God!" confirmed his suspicions. The Sergeant's voice piped up over the comm. "Son, we're gonna need to touch down in less than sixty seconds."

      At Alpha site, the human encampment on the ring, 1st Lieutenant Mitchels looked up from his desk in the command tent. A Corporal stood in the doorway, face white and panting. He spoke quickly. "Sir, the Alamo's been hit!" Mitchels stood up from his desk and rushed outside. A huge fireball had taken the place in the sky where the frigate had been moments before. Men were running all around camp, shouting orders and screaming. Mitchels began calling out orders himself, rallying his troops together. Whatever had destroyed the Alamo might already have a bead on them, so the orders were simple. Grab everything essential and hop into a Pelican. What wouldn't fit on the birds was strapped onto the warthogs. He also made sure that the three 'special' personnel for this mission were on the base at the time of the attack. He was glad to hear that they were.

      Mclees looked at the faces of everyone in the troop bay. Just like his, they were scared, sweating, and… definitely scared. Scared shitless in fact. He saw Goth looking around nervously, checking everyone's faces. Even in the middle of a life and death situation, he could still literally be concerned about the same old shit. The copilot activated the comm. "We're going to regroup with the rest of the troops. There's a fallback point, a few dozen miles away from Alpha Site. We'll have to do just a little maneuvering to cover our tracks, so we'll touch down in a few minutes." He sounded so calm. "Damn showoff flyboys." Mclees thought bitterly. But the copilot's prophecy came true, and the dropship set down in a small valley a few dozen miles away from the abandoned Alpha base. The hatch in the back of the ship opened, and the marines poured out. Camouflaged prefab cubicles were being erected, troops moved supplies too and fro, and officers shouted out orders. A Lieutenant came out of the crowd and stood before the squad.

      "We've got equipment that needs unloading over that way." He pointed out the direction. "Get a move on." Men were at work everywhere. Tango Team joined right in. Mclees and Segur hefted a crate holding a water purifier onto a trolley. A navy technician pushed it away. Service branch meant very little in this situation, and everyone got his or her hands dirty. Everyone. Mclees suddenly let out a wheezy cough; Segur tripped and fell.

      Standing in front of the two dumbstruck marines stood one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy. Seven feet tall, impossibly alien. It was like it came out of nowhere. Servicemen all around it froze. The iridescent green alien lifted a crate holding a Warthog engine block like a pillow and walked off to the area it was needed. Mclees's eyes followed it, completely separated from everything else. That, thing, was a double-edged sword. On one hand, he knew it could save them all. On the other, he knew he might have to fight beside it. And Spartans were always sent on suicide missions.

      Mclees helped Segur stood up, who looked visibly shaken. With an effort both men went back to their work. The only time they stopped was when two more Spartans came to move supplies. There was no way there were humans in those suits. Not with the way they moved.

      Word had spread quickly that a recon team had been sent back to Alpha base. The original encampment had been on open ground with small hills rolling off into the 'horizon'. Recon had reported that the area was occupied. Lots of Covenant. Prior to this Fire Team Tango had been called into Lieutenant Mitchels office for debriefing.

      Sarge spoke for his team. The squad was en route to Alpha base when a pair of Covenant ships jumped out of Slipspace. To be specific, a pair of Covenant cruisers had jumped out of Slipspace. They had floated dead in space for almost thirty seconds before they targeted and destroyed the Alamo. No lifepods had been launched.

      After the debriefing, Segur stepped forward with a question. "Permission to speak freely sir?"

      Mitchels looked at him quizzically. "Go ahead."

      "I wasn't aware this was an ONI mission sir." Mitchels cocked an eyebrow. He spoke casually.

      "I don't know what your talking about son. Dismissed." Tango team saluted crisply and dispersed. Outside the command area the squad gathered around Segur.

      "Just what the hell was that?" Sarge asked. Mclees spoke up first.

      "Sir, we saw Spartans. Three of 'em." He whispered. Wang, Goth and Sarge all looked bemused. "Think about it. We find this, this ring, out in the middle of nowhere. The Covs come here after us and blow us away. And then we find out about Spartans being on board? This was no exploration mission. This was recon."

      "Son of a bitch." Sarge muttered. Wang began praying in Chinese. His sentiments spoke for the whole group.

D+1:17:16 (Fire Team Delta Mission Clock), October 16, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Unidentified Alien Construct, Location Classified

      "Tango Squad! GO! GO! GO!" Sarge ordered. The marines charged up the hill, weapons blazing. An assortment of grunts and jackals fell under the barrage, and not a shot was fired from the surprised aliens. The marines entered the pearl gray patio-like structure that they had just taken. An intricate doorway was the only thing that decorated the octagonal building. Sarge gave out his orders. "Goth, Mclees, hold the entrance while we move on in and secure the facility. And police the enemy weapons."

       The two soldiers responded in unison with a curt "Yes sir." After Sarge and company disappeared from sight Mclees muttered under his breath, "Go on ahead and die on this godforsaken ring. Lord knows we all will." His free hand reached for the cross that hung next to the dog tags on his neck.

      "C'mon, lets gather this crap up." Goth said.

      "Pvt. Wang, you have point." Sarge ordered. The moderately tall Asian man moved down the hallway that angled almost forty-five degrees down. At the bottom the marines found themselves on level ground. The right hand wall was barren, but the left hand wall was covered in glowing, moving holograms. Segur touched one of them with the barrel of his assault rifle. The small oval he touched flashed orange and sped off down the wall. Sarge grabbed Segur by the shoulder and shook his head. "Sorry." Segur mouthed. Sarge motioned for the marines to move forward.

      The walls of the facility looked like they were made out of gold, seeming to be made out of thousands of tiny rectangles. The marines passed through another room with humming pillars, and another filled with Covenant supply crates. Soon they found themselves at a crossroads, in a small corridor that branched off into two separate corridors. Sarge pulled a glowrod from his pack, cracked it, and tossed down the right path, illuminating everything in the blue glow. "Nothing." He muttered. He pulled out another rod and tossed it down the left path. Still nothing. He tapped Wang on the shoulder and pointed down the left path. He and Segur went down the right. The two crept up to the glowrod. Segur tapped Sarge on the shoulder and pointed at the flashlight on his weapon. Sarge nodded and counted to three on his fingers. The two raised their weapons and flipped on their flashlights at once. There was nothing but empty hallway in front of them.

      Goth looked over the valley their new hill was on. It was night, and raining. That was why this mission had been picked for this particular night. He chuckled at the thought of it. There was no true night and day here, just the designation given to them by the Alamo's late A.I. He walked over to the edge of the enclosure he and Mclees stood in. The ring loomed over him as he examined the continents spread out over its surface again. After a few minutes they heard:

      "Hey sarge, I found something. Some sort of crystal. Over." Wang reported over the comm.

      "Great, more crap for us to carry back." he chuckled. "ONI's gonna have a field day." he complained. Mclees rolled his eyes.

      "Stay put. And don't touch anything. Over." Sarge grumbled. Goth leaned his assault rifle against the side of the gazebo and unslung his sniper rifle. He set the bipod up on the railing and activated the night vision optics.

      "See anything?" Mclees asked.

      "Nope. Not a damned…shit. Covies. A pair of 'em on Gees. Some new type of 'em." He looked over to Mclees, panic covering his face. "Blue guys. Big." Mclees called up Sarge on the comm.

      "Sarge, we've got company. A pair of, ah, Blue Boys on Gees. Over."

      "A pair of what? Over."

      "A new type of Covenant, sir." Mclees answered. He turned to Goth. "Goth, how far away are they? Have they seen us?" The sniper squinted through his scope. He moved the weapon ever so slightly, tracking his targets.

      "About half a click out. They're not coming towards us…" he paused. "Maybe they're on patrol."

      "They haven't seen us sir. They might be on patrol. Over." He told his NCO.

      "Keep your sights on 'em. And if they so much as glance at us, take 'em out. Over and out." Mclees looked out into the field. The damn bugs would find them eventually.

      "Goth, you sure they don't see us?" the fear in his voice bled through like s stuck pig. He reached for his cross.

      "Yea…they're gone. Past those hills about a two miles out." He set down his rucksack. "I'm getting hungry. Break out some of those crackers."

      Mclees's face contorted. "Hell no. You don't need to be eating on the job. We're making enough noise as it is." He turned away from his friend and nervously gazed into the rain.

      "That was an order, private. Now get the food." Mclees scowled. He'd almost forgotten about Goth's recent promotion.

      "Sir yes sir! Go to hell sir!" he gave a mock salute and dug out the small baggie the crackers were sealed in. The damn things were probably older than the Covenant War, and there was no doubt they were stale. Still, a whole day in the field with nothing to eat had taken its toll on the marine. When he peeled the cap off the can he quickly shoved two of the snacks into his mouth. Cheeks bulging, he handed the can to Goth. With one look at the can and Mclees's cheeks Goth began his good-natured griping.

      "You sonava'bitch. After all that bitchin you eat half of my food. And where the hell is the peanut butter?" he reached through his bag, and after no small amount of searching he found the small plastic tube holding his cherished topping. "Bon Appetite" he joked as he spread the bland tasting spread. Mclees knew what Goth was doing. Joking around. He could tell Mclees was ball of nerves. They all were. Being sent halfway across the galaxy on some FUBAR recon mission for ONI only to have the Covs jump in hours after them. Having their destroyer blasted in orbit with only the troops that had been deployed on the 'ground' surviving. And now stranded on the god damned alien ring with the Covs on their backs? Mclees sighed.

      "Hand me some of that." He said motioning for the peanut butter. But before Goth could come up with a smart-ass way to say no, the comm screamed to life.

      "God damn it. Fall back! FALL BACK!" Sarge screamed over light static.

      "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Segur muttered.

      "Goth! Mclees! Ambush! Blue Boys! We're falling back!" Sarge screamed.

      Just a few minutes earlier, Sarge and Segur had regrouped with Wang to look at the 'crystal' he had found. At the end of Wang's corridor was another room filled with covenant supply crates. Wang's crystal was about seven inches long, purple, and multifaceted. He apparently hadn't noticed the needler that lay next to it.

      "Its just needler ammunition." Segur said as he nudged it with his foot.

      "Sorry. I thought it was important." Wang professed. Sarge rolled his eyes and looked around the room.

      "Shouldn't there be Covenant here?" Segur asked. "I mean, they've got supplies and munitions all over this place. You'd think they'd be here to guard it."

      "Yea, and there sure are a lot of unlocked doors here." Wang added.

      Sarge nodded. "I know. And guys, put a sock in it would you?" He shined his flashlight across the room, over the walls, and on the ceiling. The roof was at least thirty feet high. His beam fell on a door on the other side of the room.

      The com chirped to life. "Sarge, we've got company. A pair of, ah, Blue Boys on Gees. Over."

      "A pair of what on what? Over." Segur and Wang looked at each other.

      "A new type of Covenant, sir. On Ghosts." Mclees paused, apparently talking to Goth. "They haven't seen us sir. They might be on patrol. Over."

      "Keep your sights on 'em. And if they so much as glance at us, take 'em out. Over and out." Sarge pointed at the door. "Let's check that out."

      The trio slowly advanced on the door. They fanned out around it, Wang in the center. They stepped up to it, activating the proximity sensors. They collectively shit their pants. Standing with its back to them was of an eight foot six inches alien, illuminated by a pair of glowing symbols on its back. It turned toward them, exposing its face. Its mouth was split into four independent mandibles, each covered in razor sharp teeth. Its body shone, covered in deep crimson battle armor. It snarled at the marines. Wang aimed his shotgun at the monster's head and pulled the trigger, but it leaned out of the path of the attack with lighting speed. Instantly Sarge and Segur snapped out of their trance and opened up on it. The creature extended its arm and covered itself in a diamond shaped shield, blocking every single round. It roared a warbling battle cry and shook it's head at the marines, mandibles outstretched. Wang made a beeline for the exit followed closely by his friends and brothers in arms. But he lost his footing on 'his' crystal and toppled to the ground. Sarge and Segur stopped, spun, and opened up on the creature. It sank behind a crate. Bright flashes of light caught Sarge's eye, and Wang screamed. His flesh melted away and his rifle dissolved in his hands. A blue version of the monster stood over him, a plasma rifle in its claws.

      "God dammit, fall back. FALL BACK!" he screamed. "Goth! Mclees! Ambush! Blue Boys! We're falling back!" He and Segur backpedaled out of the room, guns blazing. Sarge dropped a fragmentation grenade behind them. The marines ran faster than either of them had ever gone in their lives, passing through first supply room like the wind. Sarge dumped a crate of plasma grenades on his way through and left his calling card, a frag grenade, at the exit. Even in the other room they could feel the heat. But deep, guttural hoots warned the marines to keep moving. Segur turned from the door and ran strait into another alien. It chirped at him before turning it's pink, floating body back to the pillar it was investigating. Sarge cut it down with a burst from his AR. "Go!" he shouted.

      The two sped out of the pillar room, through the hallways and found themselves in the hologram room again. Another pink alien hovered in front of the holograms, oblivious to the humans. Segur opened up on it. The two soldiers climbed the steep ramp and made for the door.

      Segur skidded to a halt just before he ran into Mclees. "Gahhup." He gasped. "Run." Sarge slipped and fell at the top of the ramp and slid back down. Mclees and Goth rushed in to help him. But before Sarge had slid halfway down ramp the red alien pounced on him and pinned him to the ramp with an energy blade. He screamed like nothing Mclees had every heard.

      Sarge gave one last order. "Run! God dammit, RUN!" The monster pulled the blade out of his stomach and cleanly sliced off his head.

      "HAAAA!" the two soldiers screamed. They unloaded on the monster, rippling the energy shields that covered its body. Somehow it gained sure footing on the ramp and flung itself through the air, landing right on top of Mclees. Goth slammed his assault rifle into the monsters back and it replied by swatted him out the door. Its hot breath filled Mclee's lungs, and its energy blade blistered his skin. "Hey, Stooge." He held a grenade in his hands, minus the pin. As it turns out, there are a few common forms of communication that are universally understood. One of them is surprise. And Mclees showed plenty of it when the alien swatted the grenade out of his hands and out the door. It picked him up by the neck used his body as a shield.

      Outside, the remaining two marines tried to pull themselves together. Segur lay on the ground, his body punctured in several places by shrapnel. Goth had grabbed his sniper rifle and moved to the outside of the railing that surrounded the gazebo. He was lucky. "What the hell was that thing?' he thought as it moved through the doorway and dropped Mclees's mangled body. "Wort wort wort!" it cried out. Goth shot it in the head. It stumbled back, but was still standing. He fired again. A silver lining flashed around its body. It lifted its arm pulled out a plasma pistol, firing several shots into the darkness. One managed to hit Goth in the shoulder. "Odd." He thought. "It didn't hurt." The alien activated its diamond shaped energy shield and slowly backed into the door. Its head darted around like a birds, searching for the sniper to no avail. Goth breathed a sigh of relief. It was gone. He slumped down and hid behind the railing, closing his eyes for a about a minute. The cool rain splattered against his face. He sighed. Segur groaned. He peeked back over the edge of the railing. A pair of the blue creatures stood over Segur. The red one stood in the doorway.

      Big Red barked at Segur. He coughed up blood for a few seconds before he gave Big Red a hand signal. Evidently one of the blue creatures understood what it meant and kicked Segur, flipping him over on his back. The red one walked over from the doorway. What happened next blew Goth away. The monster, the alien, spoke. In English.

      "Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we, are their instrument." It spoke in a deep, whispering voice. The way it spoke chilled Goth to the bone.

      "Go. To. Hell." Segur retorted. The alien snatched a plasma rifle out of his subordinate's hands and killed the marine on the spot. Goth turned away. There was no way to escape. He looked out onto the plain. The moonlight glinted off of something. He raised his sniper rifle and zoomed in. The ghosts were coming back. He sighed and set down his rifle. Footsteps from the aliens came closer. Goth accepted that he would die. In one last stand he sprung over the railing with a battlecry…and fell off his cot onto the cold hard ground. He looked around. He was in his cubicle. His sniper rifle was leaned against a wall. An ammunition crate was set up like a table, covered with chocolate bar wrappers and a beer can. A dirty magazine was pinned up on the wall. Goth grabbed a rag and wiped his forehead off. He was drenched in sweat.

      "Goth, what's wrong now?" Mclees asked. "Did you eat all that chocolate and fall asleep?"

      Goth yelled back. "Shut the hell up. You sound like my mom damn it."

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