Halo: Indelible Past/Chapter Thirteen

Airborne traffic cleared a path in Meru's wide skylanes as a trio of Phantom dropships cruised steadily through. One of Sanghelios's largest cities, Meru was no stranger to the comings and goings of military divisions. The throngs of civilian pilots who flocked through its sculpted towers knew to get out of the way when warriors passed their way.

Aside from the whine of the engines, a tense silence hung over the interior of the lead Phantom. Its occupants sat or stood in the enclosed troop bay. Several shifted uncomfortably on the bare deck. Most of them were unfamiliar with this sort of craft, and this was but the latest step in a long journey.

But one among them stood tall and unmoved amidst the tight chaos of the weapons and equipment secured throughout the small bay. Arms folded over his chest, he tapped his fingers impatiently against his light combat armor.

"Have the other teams reported in yet?" he demanded.

"Yes sir," the pilot's voice crackled over his radio. "Primary teams are en route to their targets. Secondary teams are already in position."

"Good. Once our operation begins, signal all teams to begin the assault as well."

"Roger."

They had come along way, across the entire galaxy, to be here. Bribes had been made here, officials assassinated there, all to ensure that they and their weapons made it onto Sanghelios. It was far from their old fight, a fight many of them still wished to be fighting, but now they would fight in this new arena with the same ferocity they had in the old.

"Five minutes till we hit the target," the pilot announced. "Air control is responding to our codes."

"Good," the standing passenger noted sardonically. "I'd hate to be shot down before we even reach the target."

He turned to the others. "You heard him. Five minutes. Prep weapons and gear."

They all stood now, sliding on helmets and fastening buckles on their dark body armor. Pulling weapons from crates, they eagerly slapped magazines into assault rifles and submachine guns. The human weapons clacked hungrily as their human owners readied them for action.

They were all human, every one of them there in the troop bay. Clad in dark armor and helmets, they were decked out with grenades, sidearms, and spare magazines.

The leader's radio clicked again. "We're almost there," an eager voice hissed. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

"Haven't we all. Don't forget the plan, Peter."

"No problem, boss."

The leader turned back to the men and women in the troop bay with him. "You know the drill. Move fast and strike hard, then move on to the next target. Anyone slows us down, we leave them behind. Remember, no mistakes."

Fifteen armored heads nodded in unison.

"Today, we revive our cause. Today, we avenge the billions who the rest of humanity has forgotten. We are the new Insurrection!"