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Chapter 16

1600 Hours, August 30th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Horatio, orbiting Corona III

It may have been over three hours since they had been extracted, but the memories of his dead comrades were still etched into Manny's mind. It was all he could really think about at that moment. The way they had been literally cut to pieces by the enemy, not even standing a remote chance of survival. One thing he was thankful for though was that Sarah's injuries weren't too serious. But even that couldn't stop him from thinking about the others.

It was pure luck that they had been picked up or they would have been stranded on Corona for good. Right now he sat in the mess hall of the Horatio, one of the only ships left in system. The hall was a large enough room, with numerous stainless-steel tables littering the ceramic floor. At the far end of the hall was a giant window that looked out into the stars; at the moment all that was visible was the giant sphere of Corona III, a planet Manny hoped he never came back to. The hall was, at this very moment, dead apart from half a dozen marines and a handful of medical staff.

Manny stretched back over his chair and yawned, releasing a deep grunt. He looked to his right; Fincher was playing with his now cold dinner, Walker had laid his head on the table and looked as if he was about to fall asleep. The passed few months had been tough on them, moving from colony to colony, trying to fend off an indestructible enemy. And today's defeat was just one more blow. But this defeat was worse than all the others. They had lost men and women, good men and women. Grace, Tanya, Hutchins, Connor. The handful of men in the mess hall were the only surviving members of Alpha squad, with the exception of Harland and the Sergeant.

"This sucks," Cochran spat in disgust. Manny looked over at the Private. Cochran was tough, but what he witnessed today had gotten to him. Next to him sat Harris, anger clear on his face.

"It's better than getting killed, ain't it?" the bigger man replied. Just as he said that a group of four men walked through the mess hall door. They were laughing and joking, but it was malicious, not friendly. Manny peered closer at them and saw their rank and squad insignias. They were Rangers, and one of them was the same Ranger they had come across down on Corona. The four men came and sat almost right next to Harris, but took no notice of him or the others. Manny caught a bit of their conversation, something about finding a lost group of marines, and then realised he was talking about them.

"And this one guy, Hutchins I think his name was, got pasted by a grunt!" one of them said. "The little bastard stuck a plasma grenade on his back. You should've seen it, seein' this guy running around, screaming his head off!" The other three reared their heads back with laughter. Just the mention of his name sent anger rippling through his body. That these men could mock the dead was intolerable. The memory of Hutchins screaming was still fresh in his mind. All of their minds.

There was nothing Manny or Fincher, or anyone else could do except run. They had all felt guilty, they all held themselves responsible. And now this jerk was making fun of it all. Manny went to stand up but found the table around him move as the other four men he sat with rose as well. Fincher stepped over to them. He tapped the one they met in the forest on the shoulder, who turned round in disgust.

"Do you have no respect, you sons of bitches?" Fincher said, his voice sounded calm, but Manny knew he was far from it. "The man that is the butt of your jokes just so happened to be my best friend."

The four Rangers rose, coming round on Fincher. The one he had spoken to put his face right in front of Fincher's, an evil smile crossed his face.

"Well, well. You're the ones who were lost today, weren't ya?" he sneered, shoving the smaller man back into the Marines behind him. Fincher rebounded off of Harris's chest harmlessly. "Look boys, these are the marines I was telling you about. The ones that were lost! You know you're lucky I didn't kill that Sergeant of yours, he was a real piece of work wasn't he."

Fincher sprang forwards and landed a punch to the other man's chin, emitting a loud crack. The soldier fell backwards into his comrades, clearly shaken by the blow. But before he could respond, his three friends launched themselves into Fincher, knocking him into the ground with punches and kicks. Harris grabbed one of them and threw him over the nearest table, then jumped over himself, landing right on top of the soldier. Cochran and Walker waded in as well. Manny looked over at Harris who was landing blow after blow on the downed Ranger.

Walker had one of the troopers in a headlock and was kneeing him in the chest. Cochran was swapping blows with another, and Fincher lay crumpled on the floor. Manny glanced over at the guy Fincher had hit first. He was rounding on the downed private and looked ready to kill. But before he could, Manny snatched up a chair and smashed it over the Trooper's head, sending him tumbling to the floor. He went down with him and started landing blows into the man's face. It wasn't long before he felt silence around him. The wet thuds of fists hitting flesh had stopped, as had the yelling and screaming and he saw only motionless figures standing round him.

They were all looking passed him, their mouths hanging open. Manny turned his head to see where they were gazing and nearly yelled in surprise.

In the doorway to the mess hall stood three giants, bodies covered from head to toe in gleaming green armour. Golden visors covered their faces, and the very shape of them made them look menacing and evil. If Manny hadn't known they were the UNSC's Elite fighting force, the Spartans, he probably would have run a mile.

One of them, the smallest of the three, walked quickly towards them. If it hadn't been for the fact that the Spartan spoke before had a chance to ask it, Manny wouldn't have been able to tell if it was male or female.

"I thought we were fighting the Covenant, not ourselves," a soft feminine voice said. Nobody answered her. They all just stood and stared. The visored helmet turned towards the giant window. "Covenant ships are here, get to your stations. This could get messy."

Manny turned to the view screen. Sure enough, he could see three large dots glittering in the darkness. As he carried on staring, he noticed them getting larger by the second. He spun back to where the Spartan had been standing but there was nobody there. The two by the door had also vanished.

"Were they just here," Fincher muttered "or did I just completely imagine three Spartans standing by the door?" nobody answered him. Whether it was him being serious, or him being humorous, it got a rise out of no one. There was silence for a few moments, as both the marines and the rangers turned to stare out at the incoming ships. Manny was about to say something when the lights in the room turned a dull red and alarm claxons rang out in his ears.

This was not going to be good.




Raynes woke with a start. His room had turned a dull red, and the unforgettable sound of an alarm rang in his ears. He grabbed his watch and saw that he had only been asleep few hours. The brass had told him to get some rest before his debriefing, and he had gone straight to his room.
Groggy from sleep, he pulled himself out of bed and slung on his combats fatigues and was just about to open the door when he was flung backwards by an explosion. He landed on the floor, smacking his head against the dense duracreet. Ignoring the pain, he clambered to his feet again and made it out the door. People were running in all directions, most of them technicians or crew of the Horatio, but he recognised a few of them.

"Fincher!" he yelled "What the hell is going on?" the man stopped abruptly, only to have his entourage skid into him, sending them all to the floor.

"Covenant ships are attacking us, sir," he yelled. "We're fleeing for our lives!"

"You're on a ship, idiot. Where are you 'fleeing' to?"

"I was hoping you'd see the irony of that, sir." Fincher said as he hauled himself off of the floor. Raynes noticed new cuts and bruises on his face, as well as Cochran's who stood next to him.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

"Fight with the Rangers in the mess hall, sir." Manny piped up, coming out from behind Harris. "We ran into the guy we met down on Corona."

"Hope you kicked his ass." Raynes shouted. Manny nodded, a grin appearing on his face. This was good. Even though they had lost half of their squad today, and they were about to be blown to smithereens by a Covenant ship, they were in good spirits. "Well, just stay out of the way of everyone, and we'll get through this. There's nothing we can do about it."

"Sir, yes sir." Manny replied, as did the others. And then they were off again, heading down the corridor. He turned the other way and jogged towards the lift, diving into it as the doors closed. Another explosion shook the ship, sending the passengers flying into each other. As the doors opened, they practically fell out. Raynes picked himself up off of the floor and started towards the bridge when there was a gut wrenching crash and the wall next to him imploded. A huge bit of metal ripped out and caught a nearby crewmember, taking his head clean off.

Raynes ducked down, trying to avoid anything from hitting him. He waited a few seconds then got to his feet, and then realised what had just happened. It wasn't a Covenant missile or plasma blast, it was a boarding vessel. No sooner had he realised this a dozen small figures in yellow and red armour clambered out of a small hole where the ship had penetrated. Squeaks and barks filled the air, as well as green and blue plasma fire. In answer to them, bullets rained down on them, cutting the raiding team into pieces.

Raynes turned to see a Jackal levelling its weapon at him, but before it could fire, something hit it square in the back. It resembled a foot, but the armour encasing it was like nothing he had seen before. He stared up, and up, until he came face to face with a golden visor, his distorted reflection harking back at him. He felt his breath catch at the awe-inspiring sight that was the Spartan, in his green, iridescent armour. The tall figure looked down on him, as if trying to read is mind.

"Er...thanks." He stammered. The figure nodded at him, then handed an MA5B assault rifle to him.

"You need a weapon." A rough voice said. Raynes accepted the rifle, checked the ammo counter, and locked the pin down. He shakily nodded at the Spartan.

"Where are we going, sir?" Raynes questioned him. The Spartan had already start off down the corridor, stepping over a pile of dead bodies of both human and alien origin.

"There are boarding vessels striking every part of this ship as we speak," he turned his head to look back at the Sergeant. "I'm going to find them and destroy them. You can follow me or find your own way to a secure position, whichever suits you."

Raynes pondered the Spartan's question for a moment, but it was the splashing of green plasma against the wall next to him that made him sprint after the green being. He felt heat on his back as plasma scorched the corridor directly behind him, and he thought that it was all going to end.

He couldn't go on anymore, and found himself stopping suddenly, and turning to face his enemy. He might as well take some of them down if he was going to die anyway. Levelling his rifle, he slowly depressed the trigger, but before he could get a shot off, he was wrenched from where he stood. Disorientated as to what had just happened, he found himself being held a few centimetres off the air by the Spartan. They were standing in one of the service lifts, the doors closing quickly behind them.

The Spartan set Raynes on the floor and hit the button for deck eleven; where it went Raynes had no clue. The lift buffeted as it struggled to rise through the bowels of the ship, and he struggled to keep his balance. The Spartan was loading and checking his shotgun as the lift continued its ascent, not saying a word to the Sergeant.

There was a loud chime, and a muffled voice signalled that they were on the eleventh floor, how courteous of them. The doors opened to an empty corridor. The Spartan stepped out, his shotgun levelled steady at his shoulder. He scanned round quickly, then motioned for Raynes to follow behind him. His movements seemed fluid and robot-like, but Raynes knew that there was a human under all of that.

He followed closely behind, covering the back. The lights in the corridor had stopped flashing red and had switched to emergency lighting. The only difference was that they weren't flashing anymore, and there were less of them on. That meant the main system was offline, as well as the escape pods firing mechanism.

There was no activity on this deck, no bullet casings, no scorch marks, no dead bodies. But the screams and shouts from the lower decks could still be heard.

"Sir, if there are no Covenant on this deck," Raynes said "why are we here?" he stopped in his tracks and turned to him. The Spartan stopped and turned back to him, not taking his weapon down from his firing position.

"Because the main one is this way." He then turned around quickly and carried on down the corridor. Perfect, they were heading into the thick of things! And it wasn't long before they started to hear screams nearby.

An Ensign came running round the corner, his orange uniform tinted black in places, and ripped in others. The Spartan immediately went into a crouching position and made ready to fire at whatever came round the corner. The Ensign flung his arms and legs out as far as he could, screaming as he did so. Raynes took up a firing position standing behind the Spartan, aiming steadily down the corridor.

A Jackal's energy shield suddenly appeared from where the Ensign had sprung from, and the Ensign was halfway between it and them. The Spartan cursed as the Ensign interrupted his line of fire, but for the Jackal there was no obstacle, only a clear shot. The pistol in its hand throbbed green, colouring the walls around it in a lime wash. Then it released the trigger.

The energy bolt exploded from the barrel, and soured down the corridor. It caught the Ensign as he was hovering off of the floor, and sent him flying towards Raynes and the Spartan. The frail human figure seemed to dissipate as it careered down the corridor, painting the floor a thick red as it skidded to a halt at Raynes' feet.

Whilst this was happening, the Spartan had pulled out a grenade and primed it, tossing it down the length of the enclosed space. The Jackal hadn't even realised what had happened until it was too late. The energy shield it carried shattered in a burs of blue energy, and when the smoke cleared, all that was left was a slimy purple stain on the walls.

The sense of victory washed over Raynes, but it was quickly wiped out as several Jackals rounded the corner, chittering and clicking, intent on killing their comrades' murderers. The Spartan in front of him didn't hang around. The moment the grenade had gone off, he was up and off in the other direction. Raynes had been standing watching and only realised the Spartan was gone when he heard him shout out to him.

Raynes turned to see the Spartan waving manically at him twenty metres away. So he obliged. Gladly. He sprinted after him, narrowly dodging incoming enemy fire, and nearly tripping over at one point. When he finally caught up to the Spartan he suddenly realised where they were. The green figure stood with his back to a windowed door, staring back down the long corridor, watching the oncoming horde of Covenant. Raynes felt dread fill him, as he realised that beyond that door was an airlock. And back the other way dozens, possibly hundreds of Covenant troopers.

They were at a dead end.

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