RP:Dwindling Flame

  "I think about more than I forget. But I don't go around fire expectin' not to sweat." Lil' Wayne  DWINDLING FLAME

Introduction
''Reach has fallen, all outer colonies have been lost or forgotten. One thing now stands in the way between the Covenant and the total annihilation of the human race. Earth. The original home to the human race, this final stronghold is under attack by the Prophet of Regret's fleet.''

While Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra-117 pursues the Prophet of Regret onboard the In Amber Clad'', Earth is threatened by the Covenant juggernaut as more and more fleets pore into the Sol System. This attack on humanity's birthplace presses its defenders to give their very last ounce of strength, skill and determination as they are unified by the immediate need to ensure mankind's survival as a species. And so, humanity fight against its seemingly inevitable fate, defying the alleged instruments of the gods, protecting their dwindling flame from being extinguished...''

This is that desperate fight, the story of how humanity survived against the odds during the long weeks between the Master Chief's departure and his return.

Details

 * Location: Earth
 * Date: October 23rd, 2552
 * Official Name: Operation TRICERION
 * Operation HOLY FATHER
 * Operation DIVINE SON
 * Operation ETERNAL SPIRIT
 * Factions:
 * UNSC
 * Covenant Separatists
 * Covenant Loyalists
 * Forerunners
 * The Flood

Operation HOLY FATHER

 * Lead Author: Parkster
 * Specific Location: Australia, Oceania
 * Sydney, New South Wales
 * Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, Northern Territory
 * Overview: The Covenant have taken over Sydney and the Sydney Orbital Elevator to shuttle supplies and equipment down to the surface. While a lack of UNSC Naval support causes the orbital station to be securely under Covenant control, and with a strong Covenant ground presence any opposing Human forces will be destroyed. Stealth is their only option. Luckily, already en route to Earth - from Bauxite - after the initial invasion by Regret's fleet, Wolf Squad arrives in-system on the 20th of October and is prioritised with the task of infiltrating the Covenant ships docked to the orbital elevator station. Once on board, Medium Fusion Destructive Devices will be planted on each ship by Wolf Squad combatants. Once detonated, Bauxite's remaining fleets attack the occupying Covenant Naval forces above Sydney. Their Marine forces, enforced by Libra Team, will then attack the ground. However, Sydney isn't the Covenant's prime target. Sydney was a diversion for something far more devastating...

Operation DIVINE SON

 * Lead Author: Matt-256
 * Specific Location: Greece, Eastern Europe
 * Athens, Attica
 * Larissa, Thessaly
 * Thermopylae, Eastern Central Region
 * Overview: Greece is in flames! The defenses have been crushed, the people that valiantly held the lines battered. Scattered and few, the UNSC survivors struggle to survive in territory now belonging to the enemy. Territory the alien empire's forces is going to make use of. The city of Athens has been thoroughly destroyed and is being replaced with a massive spire - a Covenant teleporter device - which the enemy hopes to use to allow more ships to slip past Earth's orbital defenses and secure all sites of importance across the globe. To counter this, the remnants of the human presence must stand together and unite to stop the Covenant from achieving their plans. Fighting against impossible odds, the survivors - spearheaded by Spartans from teams like Winter and Brown - will do everything in their power to destroy the spire, as well as other facilities the Covenant are building in the conquered region to bolster their war machine or strengthening their hold on the region - including a massive jamming device in the ruins of Parthenon blocking all communications in to and out of the region, and factories of varying sizes churning out weapons, vehicles and other equipment in the Thessaly Periphery. For if they don't, Earth will surely fall - if not to the Covenant invaders who find themselves on the brink of infighting, then to the terrifying force that lurks beneath; a force ready to swallow organic life once unleashed...

Operation ETERNAL SPIRIT

 * Lead Author: Lordofmonsterisland
 * Specific Location: Japan, Eastern Asia
 * Tokyo, Honshu
 * Sapporo, Hokkaido


 * Overview: Around the planet, the fires of war burn the resistance, Humanity fighting back with every ounce of its collective will - the Covenant staging area of eastern Africa has little freedom fighters left, Sydney is in flames as the aliens attack HIGHCOM after the Forerunner relic below it, and countless other points drown in blood as the genocidal foe bears down upon factories, fortresses and homes. In Japan, the Land of the Rising Sun, the massive stores of Chinese-made weapons and vehicles are rolling out to fight the war machine around the globe, but the Covenant has caught on and now moves to deal with this source of UNSC equipment. Digging in and forming up defenses, all available UNSC forces across Japan prepare to defend the warehouses in Sapporo and Tokyo, readying themselves for anything the Covenant can throw at them, and praying they can hold out.

Rules & Regulations
NOTE: The following rules are subject to change at any time.


 * 1) Have fun, embrace other users and their creative skills and cooperate and enjoy the RP's to their full potential.
 * 2) Please follow the NCF guidelines. Also, no God Modding.
 * 3) These RP's are not part of any specific universe. Anyone, with any amount of characters are welcome to join in, regardless of the character's biographies and their respective universes.
 * 4) LOMI, Parkster and Matt-256 are the project moderators. What they say goes, and any questions or issues should be directed to them.
 * 5) When discussing ideas and other topics related to this Project and its RP's, on anyone of these articles' talk pages, please remain civil and take other user's views and opinions into account. Report incivility to the moderators.
 * 6) The Initial Tetralogy has already been roughly planned out. Despite this, more ideas and especially plot-twists are welcome to be discussed, however this does not mean they will definitely be implemented.
 * 7) Each RP will have one or more major plot line, and although we do not wish to limit creativity and lower the success of these RP's, we strongly advise that you follow the main plot lines and do not wonder off aimlessly by yourself in the RP world's!
 * 8) Do not edit major pages, such as this, or other people's RP posts unless consulted or told to do so by the moderators. We don't want an edit war!
 * 9) Do not kill off other user's characters unless given permission to.
 * 10) Cooperation with other users is vital for successful RP's to work, however make sure both you and the cooperating user know and agree that you're working together!
 * 11) There are official invite templates that are used to publicise the project and its RP's. Please help us out and post them on user's talk pages, if they haven't been invited already (see the How You Can Help section below.

Participants & Characters
''To view a list of involved participants and their characters, please click here. These two sections have been reloacted from this page to save space and therefore editting efficiancy.''

Storyline
While the RP takes place over a long timeframe and in many different locations, there are three fronts - or operations - which are prominent over the others; HOLY FATHER, DIVINE SON and ETERNAL SPIRIT. If you've played an RPG like Dragon Age: Origins, Mass Effect or The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, you know that there's so-called main quests which make up the main storyline - that is, they serve to move the plot forward. Putting it simply, this is what the aforementioned three operations are; the backbone of the RP's story. But in said games, there are also a lot of sidequests; assignments that serve to expand the world you're in and get a close look of whatever's happening to the people that don't get attention in the main quests and what their respective problems are. So just as HOLY FATHER, DIVINE SON and ETERNAL SPIRIT are the main stories, plotlines thought up and carried out by you users who don't want to be part of those three, or who just wants some additional excitement, form up a category of additional stories within the RP, adding to the overall RP experience. For example, if users A, B and C band together and roleplay about an attack on New York, that's a sidestory - which doesn't mean that it can't be enjoyable, just that it isn't the main storyline. If you have more questions about this, visit the talk page and we'll do our best to answer your queries.

Week One (October 23 - October 29)
Operation: HOLY FATHER

'"What chance has the UAF got against the Covenant, General? With all forces scattered at more important locations, what chance?"

"The best lone wolves known to man and the remnants of Group Three, madam..."

0007 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Sydney Orbital Elevator Space Sector, Australian Space Region, United Australasian Federation

Undetectable by any radar, too small and too invisible; the seven phantom soldiers drifted effortlessly towards the Covenant naval occupation: two corvettes and a battlecruiser. Radio silent, their trajectories precisely calibrated and executed to the nearest millisecond of a degree, the SPARTANS flew to their respective targets. Wolf Squad were unknown as far as the human race was aware, let alone the Covenant. Team Canis, three of the ghosts, glided past one of the corvettes and towards the battlecruiser, attached to the Orbital Elevator’s space station. Team Lupus and the Squad’s commander split into pairs as their linear flight paths started to split. Two per corvette; contact with the alien ships was nigh. Three of the metallic black supersoliders carried Anti-Shielding Ion Pulse Warheads, their key to ending the orbital occupation of the covenant. It was a complex mission but one that would require little struggle if executed accurately. Ensign Jake-G239 and Chief Petty Officer Randall-G178 initiated their Temporary Localised Trans-Energy Field Shields, which would allow them to sink through the Covenant’s shields for a few seconds so they can make it to the surface of the ship. They would be unharmed but the small flicker on the ship’s shielding monitors may attract attention. Upon passing through the protective threshold, their TLTEFS’s dissipated and so did their normal energy shields and cloaking fields. Within seconds both their active camouflage and energy shielding recharged and the SPARTAN’s placed the ASIP warheads on the hexagonally tessellating purple hull.

Both soldiers pulled various levers, turned them simultaneously and activated the device’s unfolding clamped, which attached to the ship’s surface. The device would have made a loud clang if it wasn’t for the lack of air surrounding the ship. The main control panel then appeared, holographically emerging to life from a small blue light on the centre of the advanced device. Randall pressed and slid certain buttons and tabs until the display turned green, came together in a cylinder and then vanished back into the centre; where the cycloptic eye of the device turned green and started flashing. It was ironic that the Covenant’s greatest defensive advantage was being reworked against them; their imitative technology being stolen and innovatively used in assisting their deaths.

Meanwhile the other teams were undergoing the same operation; arming the warhead on the hulls of the other two ships. Jake and Randall would be finished first, Canis second and then the remaining two Lupus combatants last. Despite this, by the time Jake and Randall would reach the orbital station, Canis would already be there; straight from the docked cruiser. Finished arming their warhead, the squad commander and EOD specialist looked and nodded at each other, stood up and started running to the other side of the ship. Upon reaching the other side, they jumped off of the ship, magnetic boots deactivating, trans-EF shields activating. Unlike entry onto the ship, where they merely sunk through the shield, they shot out of the ship’s defensive coat due to the slight deflective capabilities of the corvette’s protecting energy field.

Another flicker on the sensors would raise awareness, enough to initiate a small investigative unit. However it would have to wait. In the distance, in between the Earth and moon, closer to them, blips of blue light sparked open into white centred balls of distorted space. UNSC forces had arrived from Mars ready to execute phase two of the operation; two frigates and a Marathon-class cruiser. The two corvettes were the first to respond, already alerted from the dual blips on their shields but unaware of their vulnerable disposition, timed to detonate on their exoskeleton. They dispatched seraph fighters and the human forces simultaneously retaliated with the release of Longsword fighters. The UNSC ships charged towards the station, the frigates taking lead. Corvette’s weapons charged; the timers initiated perfectly. A bright blue sphere erupted, coated in an electrical charge, causing wave-like ripples across the shield’s surface. Within less than a second the blue sphere dissipated with a shock wave emanating rapidly, at the sphere’s initial point of dissolution, across the ship’s protecting layer; stripping it of existence. The corvette teams were nearly at the station, where Canis were waiting anxiously but calmly.

Without time for the corvettes to recover, bright yellow bursts flashed from the noses of the incoming frigates and instantly the Covenant ships exploded at their bows, smaller eruptions occurring all over the surface of the ship, lights diming and large fragments of shrapnel flying off. Seconds later, as the frigates turned off their collision course with the dying purple wrecks, the corvettes’ engines exploded, completely destroying the stern and rendering the front half of the ship critically impaired. At this point, the opposing side’s starfighters engaged each other, casualties on both sides. The space fight had truly begun.

Finally the battlecruiser disconnected from the station, sending back up forces to attack the frigates, which had already loaded their Shiva-class Nuclear Missiles and rail gun turrets to counterassault the Covenant’s backup. Well prepared and precisely executed, the operation was nearly complete. The final ASIP warhead exploded, obliterating the cruiser’s shields and an almost premature shot from the Marathon-class cruiser followed immediately after; gutting the cruiser, and disabling most of its abilities. The second sub-lightspeed projectile from the UNSC cruiser effortlessly pushed through to the engines of the semi-destroyed battlecruiser, annihilating it in an explosive ball of purples and blues. Rail gun and point defence turrets ripped into the Covenant seraphs.

However the station was still under Covenant control and the combatants inside it were certain that the incoming human’s would not attack. They were right but still unprepared. The frigates passed the station and carried on slightly beyond where they deployed drop pods for the first wave of counter-occupation forces into Sydney. Pelicans and Albatross dropships followed for the second wave, accompanied by fighter craft. Eventually the frigates descended too, for the third wave of heavier support. The cruiser stopped near the station however, keeping at a relatively safe distance from it.

"This is Admiral Bobson of the Marathon-class cruiser Olympus Pinnacle, thank you Wolf Squad, your efforts have been invaluable. Forces have been sent to infiltrate and regain control of the station and your D7 Prowler is inbound to collect you. Thank you SPARTAN’s, you’ve lived up to your name and reputation."

"Thank you sir, we couldn’t have done it without you either." Jake replied honourably.

"No problem Master Chief, Bobson out." The com channel ceased, however they were no radio free on a squad-wide basis. Dropships and infiltration craft surrounded and engaged the station. Jake congratulated his team:

"Good one Wolf, you’ve done us proud." The rest of the team nodded in humble acknowledgement of their praise. They were all still so silent, being separated from the rest of gamma. They were, after all, lone wolves and maybe the team work was not as satisfying as they had wished. Regardless of this, their efforts were outstanding, but yet unknown throughout the galaxy by the majority of civilians and even military personnel. The prowler, decloaked with its underbelly open, halted over Wolf Squad. They jumped, almost zero gravity at their aid, and fly up into the stealth vessel’s hold. Silently and secrectly, they left the station, their next operation unknown, even by the temporarily enlightened admiral. Ghosts within the depths of clear hell...

0107 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Covenant Assualt Carrier Blissful Annihilation, Unknown Exact Location, United Australasian Federation

"Yes Supreme Commander, I acknowledge your urgency however our orbital forces have just been obliterated and..." K’sar Vadumee interrupted:

"I am careless for your sympathetic naivety towards the forces in Sydney. You are to remain where you are. I don’t wish to recall the ultimate purpose of this operation again. Let those forces cripple and eventually fall under the human’s counter attack, that ispart of the plan, however cruel it may seem. Victory does not spawn without sacrifice, and while the stupid humans are occupied and exhausting their resources, we will initiate the true threat upon them at the least expecting moment; at the point of their worthless victory." The supreme commander’s hologram vanished and the fleet master lowered is head in dismay and anger. These emotions were supressed within a second. Confidently though he barked orders to his officers to prepare for the dig. They would be here for a long time. They could be the key to the destruction of the human race.

0049 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Palm Beach, Northern Beaches, North Shore, Sydeny, Asutralia, United Australasian Federation

Six drops pods, among many others falling in other locations, impacted on Palm Beach, the most northern point of Sydney’s North Shore. The pods doors flew off and hit into the beach, sending sand into the air. The night was warm and humid, the norm for Australia’s nocturnal sub-tropic spring but the six SPARTANS of Libra Team were warmer from the thrill and heat of a rapid orbit-to-ground insertion. Stepping out of their pods, they ran up to the main car park of the Palm Beach Surf Life Saving Club, where they were greeted by the small remaining local militants. UARDF’s military army soldiers, clad in grey or olive drab for urban operations, stopped and starred at the arrival of the six awe spawning giants of military genius and perfection.

"Thank god you lot have arrived, we’ve been sitting ducks with heavy casualties preparing for the next Covenant attack. And I sure as hell didn’t expect a counter-assault of this magnitude, let alone SPATANS." Sergeant First Class Lachlan Stevens welcomed gratefully.

"Glad to meet you Sergeant, your able combatants will be working alongside us to regain control of the North Shore. Firstly we’ll attend to your wounded and create attack strategies for daybreak." Simon-A001 reassured. He then turned to inform the rest of his team on their duties.

"Tony, I want you on medical straight away. Do what you do best."

"Yes sir, certainly." The brains of Libra shot inside the surf club to attend the injured.

"Jun and Jack, scout the area, see what we’re up against. I’m not familiar with the area and so I need ways in and out for us and the Covenant." Jun nodded humbly and Jack gave a hint of excitement through a muttered yesss! They ran off into the darkness.

"Kate and Zack, you need to assess the ordinance, armour, weaponry and military capabilities of the unit. Get to know names and specialities, we’re gonna need all the help we can get." "Yes sir." Kate replied with a subtle nod.

"You know what I like best!" Zack enthused in his deep slightly-philipino voice to the Commander, as he walked to the rudimentary armoury. Simon smiled at the EOD and heavy duty specialist’s charismatic nature. The army Sergeant waved the commander over to their central control table; a map and some objects to serve as ally and enemy units and bases. They really were lacking resources.

"We’re so grateful for your arrival, half our unit is down though, injured or dead. Took your time!" The Sergeant said cheekily.

"Better late than never Sergeant, better late than never..."

'''1827 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calender)/ Outskirts of Shanghai, Shanghai Municipality of the People's Republic of China

The sun was beginning to set on the western horizon as the purple-hulled Phantom Dropship descended from the sky, deactivating its cloaking shield and bringing itself to bear as it hovered right at the edge of the raised platform, making for easy accessibility. Within a few seconds, both of the bay doors folded out, Gunner-rank Unggoy manning the Plasma Cannons on either side while a Special Operations Sangheili walked to the edge of the troop bay; there, he grabbed a hold of the bay wall's edge and looked out across the demolished area that had once been the port of a Human city.

A dozen yards away, just now beginning to walk up the ramp to the raised platform, approached an entourage of Sangheili, Honor Guards surrounding a half a dozen warriors in a protective circle. This central group, noticeable in their distinctly crafted armor, were an imposing group of Sangheili Zealots, commanders of the invading army.

As the Sangheili boarded the dropship, the SpecOps Sangheili backed away from the edge and bowed respectfully to his superiors, not raising his head till one of them spoke to him.

“Report, 'Essonee,” stated the highest ranking Zealot. From head to toe, the Sangheili's purple armor demonstrated refined simplicity, the artistic motifs and armor pieces combined were with combat sensibility to ensure an imposing, regal look without compromising tactical functionality. Standing almost a head taller than the rest of the Zealots and with more than enough muscle mass to fill out his well-built form, it was obvious in every way that this Sangheili had seen his share of battles, and was most assuredly fit for his command position.

Few were more feared than Field Marshall Rimon 'Achachakee.

'Essonee spoke: “This Human territory – Chy-Nuh, they call it – is well on its way to defeat. The capital has fallen and our base there is already under construction, while the Humans are scurrying away like Scrub Grubs.” 'Essonee paused, unsure as to whether or not he should continue.

“And what of your mission, commander?” asked 'Achachakee, “Does the Human commander now rot in the Shadow World?”

'Essonee was silent a moment.

“Well?”

“Regrettably, our strike failed, Field Marshall. The commander escaped, killing two of my best men in the process.”

'Achachakee hung his head in digust. “This is the second time you have failed me, 'Essonee,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the commander. 'Achachakee walked over to one of the bay doors and stared out at the vast sea that separated this Human territory, Chy-Nuh, from their next target, an island state called Jaahpahn, which was reported by scouts to have gathered a large supply of war equipment and soldiers, including some escapees from the recently destroyed capitol of Chy-Nuh.

“Tell me, 'Argysee,” began 'Achachakee, turning to one of his companions, a gold-clad General, “If 'Essonee were to fail you again, what would you do?”

“I would strip him of his rank, cut off his sword hand's thumbs, and clip his mandibles,” stated the General in a husky voice.

“Indeed,” returned 'Achachakee simply, watching out the bay door as the water receded and the Phantom pivoted towards the nearby carrier. “'Essonee, you have one final chance to redeem yourself: eliminate the Human commanders on Jaahpahn once the invasion begins, or you shall wish you were never born.”

“By your word, Field Marshall”

“Ship Master,” continued 'Achachakee quickly, turning to another of the Zealots, “As soon as we dock, gather this battle group and move the ships towards the island. We land our forces before sunrise; understood?”

The Ship Master acknowledged, and once he did 'Achachakee turned to the bay door once more while the Phantom entered the hangar bay. There on the horizon, defying the waves, the high Zealot saw their target, a bastion of Humanity soon to be crushed like so much dirt beneath his hoof.

They shall die like the vermin they are, thought 'Achachakee.

Then, with a mere button press, the bay door closed, plunging them into darkness.

'''2138 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calender)/ Saitama Prefecture, Japan - approaching Tokyo Metropolitan Prefecture

The sky had already grown dark and yielded to the moon and stars for several hours, but still the convoy of UNSC forces pressed on towards Tokyo, visible only as a distant glow on the horizon. Throughout the island nation, forces were redeploying to Ryu Base, UNSC headquarters in the area with the destruction of the Echo-7 Command in Beijing roughly six hours earlier. While forces were holding positions in strategic locations throughout Japan, many serving as launch points for air strikes and naval forces, strategists predicted the Covenant sledgehammer would fall on the Tokyo region.

Lance Corporal Robert Justin Davis III of the UNSC Marine Corps lowered his helmet's scope attachment and activated the night vision function, scanning the area and checking the skies for incoming attacks, but all remained as clear and silent as it had been for the past few hours, ever since the destruction of two lone Banshee fighters. All was quiet, too quiet: Justin was nervous, to say the least, and continued to expect Covenant starships to appear over them at any minute.

Some would have blamed Justin's jitters on the fact that he was both young and not long in the military, but Justin had already been through a dozen battles against the Covenant, gaining both experience in war and a chilled outlook on the Covenant assault. Not knowing what to expect was not Justin's problem: this unease was caused by the exact opposite, the fact that Justin knew what should be happening and had not yet started.

“This is the way the world ends,” Justin whispered to himself, unheard by any others underneath the howl of the wind that rushed past the speeding Falcon. Placing the turret on safety once more, Justin thought of the dismal situation they were in: the Covenant had found Earth, blown a hole through the orbital defense grid right over the Mediterranean, and now they were spreading across the globe, blowing apart key strongholds as they tightened their choke-hold on all Humanity held dear.

But this is our home, thought Justin, We won't go down without a fight.

Staring at the stars, Justin recalled one of the last times he had spoken with his father: “When I was a kid,” he had said, ''“Thoughts about other life out there were mostly just dreams. I remember there was a big group of people that kept wanting us to try and make contact, saying aliens would bring peace and harmony. Hehe, I wonder where they are now...”''

Dead, like so many others, thought Justin, Dead like you. Mere months after that conversation, Justin's father died during the evacuation of Last Chance, a refugee world they had been moved too; Justin managed to make it to the refugee ships, but his father was not so lucky, and his poor mother died days later from internal injuries taken during the evacuation. After that, Justin had lived briefly off the grid before faking his age and joining the Marines: since then, he had fought on numerous worlds, doing his best to beat the Covenant back, but they had only succeeded in stalling the inevitable.

I'll die before I hand this planet over to you sons of...

On the ground below, Staff Sergeant Josiah “Tex” Littleton kept his hand gripped tightly onto the rollbar of his Troop Transport Warthog, with his mind holding just as firmly on to the glimmer of hope that he pictured alongside the soft glow of city lights on the horizon. It was true that the Covenant were doing their best to take Earth for their own, to break Humanity's will, but Tex knew that they all had a speck of hope; if they could just pull together long enough to fight back, this fight might be the turning point of the whole war.

“What the heck you staring at like that, Tex?” asked Sergeant Tommy “Guns” Jones from the passenger seats in the back. Tommy was Tex's right-hand man on the team, and he was not push-over in a fight. Between his hand-to-hand combat skills, efficiency with close-quarters weapons and the ability to seemingly cheat death, Tex had more than once thought that while they might all be TROJANs, Tommy should have been a SPARTAN.

Tex smirked. “I'm looking at the city, and thinking we might have a shot at this,” he yelled back.

“You're one crazy son of a gun,” said Lance Corporal Isaac “Blitz” Montoya, the heavy weapons specialist and medic of Team Delta.

“Look who's talking,” Tex retorted, “All I'm saying is if we can make it to Ryu Base, we might have a fighting chance. Not much, but just enough.”

“Why the H*** would we have a fighting chance there instead of anywhere else, huh?” asked Corporal Henry “Ratchet” Jackson, the team's engineer, information warfare specialist and pilot, “What does it have that nowhere else around here does? Personally I say we should have dug in on Mt. Fuji, had some solid ground around us instead of crumbling skyscrapers!”

“Great idea, Ratchet, 'cept for the part where they glass us all to death,” retorted Blitz, “Seriously though, Tex, what's so important about Ryu?”

“SPARTANs,” said Amos Kane from the driver's seat. He was an enigma to the rest of the team, an ONI liaison that had been assigned to them in Sendai prior to departure for Tokyo. For the majority of the trip, Amos had been silent, but now he chose to speak only to drop a bomb that none of the others had expected.

Ratchet nearly swallowed the wad of tobacco he was chewing. “SPARTAN's?” he coughed, “Why the H*** are SPARTANs here of all places?”

“Because ONI has some things they would rather not lose.”

'''2206 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calender)/ Ryu Base, Tokyo, Japan

“You have been reassigned, and you will like it, Sierra,” ordered the stern, old man. He was tall, dressed cleanly in uniform and carried a thick, black beard with grey streaks, likely against regulations. Then again, Codename: ISTARI was an ONI member that rarely worried about regulations, and had few who would challenge his authority: all ISTARI worried about was ethics and winning, with the latter over-riding the first when need be.

“Sir, with all due respect –” began the SPARTAN.

“Silence,” cut in ISTARI, “There will be no negotiating, CHRONO. I am not MAGPIE; you may be her favored pet agent, but I am her right-hand, and in her absence I call the shots in regards to her agents. We have SPARTAN-grade soldiers here at Ryu Base, and while they may officially be working as Inferno Team, they need a leader: you will fulfill that role.”

“I feel you are wasting a valuable aspect, sir,” retorted CHRONO.

“D***it, Riker, follow orders for once!” cried ISTARI, “This is not the time for questions! The Covenant are crossing the Sea of China as we speak: they'll invade Japan before dawn. If it weren't for the fact we need every man we can get I'd have you locked up right this minute for disobeying orders.”

ISTARI sighed and sank into his chair. “Riker, let's dismiss with formalities for a moment. I need you to understand that I need you to lead this team: you're the only agent I trust to handle it, and any other qualified agents are too far off for me to call on in the timeframe I'm working with. I know you've not been a team player the entire time you've been an agent, and I know why you have apprehensions – I've read about Brown Team, and what happened on Chaos; I sympathize. But no matter what your fears are, Riker, you must take this position.”

“I'm not afraid, sir,” replied the SPARTAN stoically, nary a sign of emotion on his face.

“Then get out there!” bellowed ISTARI, on his last leg of patience.

Riker appeared for a moment like he would hesitate, but then he nodded and saluted, walking out of the room. Before he left though, ISTARI spoke up once more: “You won't be alone in this Riker, remember that. I'll be serving as Inferno Actual on this mission; I'll be watching you.”

Riker nodded and walked out, leaving ISTARI alone in the empty office. He sighed to himself. “Margaret, why did I let you get me into this?”

Riker walked into the main atrium of Ryu Base, where Marines and soldiers set up defenses and barricades both within and without, with line after line of defenses and traps set up to protect the towering ONI structure. Of course, part of the defense was in the structure itself, as the true secrets of the ONI building where not in the skies above, but buried below.

Exiting the outer courtyard, Riker entered the streets and found his new team of super-soldiers to his right, where some were setting up machine gun nests and other forms of cover, as others helped unload ammunition and equipment from incoming Warthog supply carriers, with a few simply standing or sitting nearby. Walking up to them, some of the idle ones saluted, which Riker returned as he scanned the group: they were a motley crew, with only two clad in MJOLNIR, while another pair wore SPI and the remaining two were outfitted with THOR powered armor.

“And who might you be?” asked one of the idlers, standing up as she spoke; she was shorter than a normal SPARTAN, partially due to the SPI armor she was glad in, but her hardened face showed only disdain for this new arrival.

“Master Chief Petty Officer Riker-012,” replied Riker, “I'm your new commanding officer. And you are?”

The girl only snorted at Riker, and turned back to her seat: however, she was in for a rude shock as Riker caught her wrist and flipped her over, forcing her to the ground where he pinned her with a knee each on her left arm and throat while he held down her right arm with his own. “I believe I asked your name,” Riker stated calmly as two of the others snickered to themselves.

“Nalani,” she replied, struggling, “Private First Class Nalani Heap.” As soon as she finished speaking, Riker released her and got up, moving out of the way as she bolted off the ground. Riker smirked under his helmet as Nalani glared at him.

“And the rest of you?” he asked, turning to face them.

“Chief Petty Officer Heinz-238,” stated one of the MJOLNIR wearers, a young male with blond hair and a dark complexion. “And this is my teammate, Chief Petty Officer Bryn-175,” he continued, indicating the other MJOLNIR-clad warrior, a female with long dark hair, dyed with blue streaks in places, complimenting her blue, troubled eyes.

“I can speak for myself, Heinz,” she growled, throwing him a degrading look.

“238 and 175, you say?” asked Riker, receiving a nod from both, “Never heard numbers that high before.”

“They're Second Class SPARTAN-II's,” replied a young man in THOR armor; he was of Asian ethnic origins, though his height and broad shoulders suggested something else at work also. Unlike all but one other, he kept his helmet on, though the visor was depolarized so that his face was visible. “The project was started around the same time period as the SPARTAN-III Beta Company, but it followed the original SPARTAN-II program ideals of super-soldiers that were built to last, not 'fire and forget' assets. Their tags range from 151 to 300.”

“Thank you, resident geek,” replied Bryn, “As if we wanted pieces of our lives handed to us like we're merely facts on a datapad.”

“And you would be?” inquired Riker.

“Corporal Benji Wong,” replied the young man, “Myself and Kevin here” – he indicated one of the SPI wearers – “are both Spartan-1.1's. Nalani and Chon are Spartan-2.1's; children of your brothers and sisters, you see. I suppose they're almost your niece and nephew.” Benji attempted to laugh at his joke, but stopped himself when he realized Riker was not of the humorous sort.

Riker nodded and looked at the last member, Chon, who had remained silent. “And you?” he asked, but Chon remained silent within his THOR armor.

“He's deaf,” said Nalani, “Has been since birth.”

“Any auditory implants?”

“Yeah”

“Then why does he not speak”

“He got used to it as a kid, and decided not to change after he learned to hear. He understands you just fine, he just doesn't ever answer verbally.”

“Wireless textual transfer, then.” Nalani nodded. “How good is he at sniping?”

“Best one you'll see around these parts”

Riker merely stared at Chon, who stared back, both hidden by their visors but understanding one another perfectly. Riker then turned to the others and looked once more. “I thought there were more of you than this.”

“Oh, there are,” replied Benji, “The chief is up on the roof with the others.”

“Show me,” said Riker, and Benji moved to lead only for Kevin to stop him.

“I'll handle it from here,” said Kevin, leading Riker to a nearby elevator and activating it. Riker looked at Kevin and gave a silent nod of thanks for delivering him from Benji's overly-energetic nature.

The elevator slid to a stop, and the doors opened, letting Riker and Kevin off on the rooftop before quietly closing behind them. On the edge of the roof, four silent figures stood, gazing at the night sky and city lights in front of them: one turned and looked, then informed the others they had a guest.

“Who do you have with you, Kevin?” asked the shortest figure, a female clad in SPI.

“This is our new commander.”

At this, the middle figure turned around, his chipped and scraped brown GUNGNIR armor appearing not much better off than Riker's similarly beaten red Operator variant MJOLNIR. The figure was a middle-aged man, his skin a deep tan, with grey hair growing on the tip of his chin: the tip of his left ear had been badly mauled, and he lacked any hair on his head's top, not from shaving but from bad burns across the skin. In his right ear was a small, silver stud earring, while his left cheek was tattooed with a small circle made of dots. Out of respect, Riker also removed his own helmet, allowing this commander's group a view of his face whereas the ones below had been deprived; in Riker's mind, it stood as a small show of respect. The figure stuck out his hand, which Riker took and shook thoroughly.

“Master Chief Petty Officer Riker-012,” he said.

“Welcome,” said the bald man, “I'm Senior Chief Petty Officer Marak-A103. I'm glad to know I won't be the only commander of Inferno.”

“A motley crew, to be sure,” replied Riker.

“You have no idea,” answered Marak with a knowing smile, “If only you'd been with us over the past few days of the invasion.” He turned back to the building's edge and looked through a pair of binoculars once again, scanning the horizon.

“Have you had any signs of them?”

“None yet,” said Marak, “What report from ISTARI?”

Riker was somewhat stunned that Marak knew of his visit with ISTARI, and when Marak saw it, he laughed lightly despite himself. “You're not the only agent MAGPIE has, you know.”

“True enough,” said Riker, “But in any case, ISTARI only knows they could arrive anywhere within the next four hours or so.”

“I suppose we just have to hope the wet Navy takes out as many as they can,” said Marak. Turning back to Riker and the others, he said, “Introductions are needed, I suppose. This one here” – Marak indicated one of the men, clad in MP variant MJOLNIR armor – “is Avalon-X05, GENOME division. The other lad in the Hayabusa armor is Gregory-266, Class Two RONIN Group. And the lass there is Janissary James, commander of the Spartan-1.1's.”

Riker simply nodded, viewing them all. “Time for war then.”

Operation: DIVINE SON

1925 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Outskirts of Thermopylae, Periphery of Continental Greece, Hellenic Republic

The three Spartans moved swiftly along the river of Spercheios through wreckages and burned pavements, stopping every hundred feet to take cover, while the leader scanned the surroundings, sniper rifle in hand. After several seconds, he gave a barely visible hand signal, and his two female teammates gracefully leapt out of cover to take point. They moved ahead another hundred feet, took cover again, the leader once more looking around in the distance through his rifle's scope, thus repeating the procedure.

And so, the armored giants continued – continuously moving in short bursts and dropping into cover, seemingly eyeing the hundreds of Covenant Banshee fighters and three corvettes in the distance vigilantly – for half an hour, until the leader finally gave a different hand gesture – slowly waving an open hand downwards – and pointed to what appeared to be an abandoned fisherman's hut a short distance from the river bed, covered somewhat from sight by home-planted trees. The three figures snuck through the – for them – small doorway one by one until the leader was last and quietly shut the door.

A thin ray of light streamed in through a broken window on the opposite side of the one-room hut and lit up the leader's cyan-colored armor while he carefully holstered his sniper rifle onto his back. He then turned and sat down in front of the other two, removing his helmet to reveal curly, dirty blond hair and a hint of same-colored stubble adorning an angular-shaped face with blue eyes.

"Well" he said tiredly, but with a detectable hint of amusement. "Things haven't changed. At least not for the better."

The woman in blue-colored armor also removed her helmet, uncovering chin-length white-blond hair and a half sad half irritated expression, complete with almost electric blue eyes. "I don't get how you keep sounding positive about it all, Major. It's damn bad out there! Has been for a day and a half!" She had a touch of Irish accent as she spoke, but so little that it was barely noticeable, as if she had almost phased out of it by living in proximity to a different dialect for a long time.

Major Laszlo-108 shrugged and managed a weak smile. "Looking on the bright side of things helps. Lazít. Chill out, Bonnie. Though come to think of it, we might want to get back to base before doing that" he jokingly scratched his chin as though deep in thought "seeing as those who chill away from home has a short life expectancy."

Bonnie-A261 rolled her eyes but didn't reply. Laszlo knew it was a sign of defiance; once realizing that her new commanding officer was a positive optimist – as opposed to herself and her cynicism – she had been skeptical of his ability to command.

Amanda-208, sitting to Bonnie's left, neither said anything nor took off her helmet: she, like most of the second class of the SPARTAN-II Program, had the same custom as the majority of the first class to keep on their equipment at all times, a habit Laszlo and a lot of the SPARTAN-IIIs – judging from Bonnie's behavior, anyway - hadn't embraced fully. But Laszlo knew well enough what she looked like – raven black hair tied up into a knot, somewhat sharp features, golden eyes – and that she, also had her doubts about his leadership. She didn't express it like Bonnie, but Laszlo could feel it. And he chose to let their doubts be. He knew they wouldn't start respecting him properly for who he was until they were forged together in heavy combat. Battle had such a strange effect on people; through all the pain and death that occurred, the survivors almost mechanically bonded gradually through the common knowledge that one understood what the other was going through. Laszlo had made most of his friends outside the SPARTAN-II Program that way.

"Look" he said sympathetically "let's catch our breath a minute or two before heading back to base." Bonnie and Amanda nodded, Bonnie with somewhat more hesitation.

All three of them knew that they weren't stopping to 'catch their breath'; they just used the scarce time at the end of their reconnaissance patrols away from the chattering and commotion in Olympus Base, where the known remains of the UNSC forces in Greece – including Laszlo and his fellow female members of Brown Team, as well as two other Spartan teams known as Gentry and Winter, roughly two companies worth of army troopers, a platoon of paratroopers and ODSTs, a squadron of bomber craft, and a considerable amount of vehicles and aircraft – had holed up once the Covenant had successfully occupied and cut off the whole country from contact with the rest of humanity, to think in peace.

They wanted a plan, a clear goal to pursue again. They wanted to fight. It was what they did best. But that was easier said than done when the Covenant held the entire region in a tight grip, somehow preventing all communications in and out of the country, and also patrolling the skies with Banshee squadrons and corvettes. The UNSC resistance was effectively stuck for the time being, as were any possibly remaining pockets of defense force and militia combatants.

Meanwhile, the Covenant seemed intent on making use of every square meter of the country; reconnaissance confirmed that they were building large amounts of factories for various purposes – from weapons, vehicles and equipment to aircraft and starship components – primarily in the Thessaly Periphery. Anti-air plasma batteries and electromagnetic shielding generators were also constructed throughout the region, evidently to defend against external attack.

But none of that was anything compared to Athens; the core of the Covenant forces – including an assault carrier – was based in the once thriving metropolis, storing methane deposits, armories, bases and more within its boundaries. And at the center, they had busily started to construct a tall spire – a piece of Covenant technology first seen during the Fall of Reach and used to devastating effect. All evidence pointed towards the fact that the alien empire was turning the region into a beachhead for other Covenant forces, from which they would scatter around the globe, to ultimately conquer the whole planet.

So far, the brass back at Olympus base were uncertain what action to take – whether to bypass Covenant forces and get out of the country, or to launch a counterattack – so they sent the spartans and what remained of the local Section One field reconnaissance detachment as scouts to gather as much intel as possible in the meantime, hoping it would affect the final decision. And so the supersoldier teams had taken turns at monitoring the surrounding area, while the ONI recon teams handled long-range reconnaissance – mainly towards Athens and other larger cities the Covenant may have taken interest in, or where more UNSC forces may have survived and continued the fight. In the meantime, the rest of the spartans were relegated to base defense, in case it was discovered, or aiding the brass in their planning.

After a few minutes, Laszlo decided to get a move on, and signaled Amanda and Bonnie to take point. One by one, they leapt through entrance and moved into the nearest cover – a dune of sand – before taking a look around. Laszlo drew his sniper rifle and once more looked into the scope to check the distance.

At first glance, everything seemed as normal as before they took shelter in the hut, but at second glance Laszlo saw a dot in the sky – one that hadn't been there before. More than that, it seemed the Covenant corvette group had also noticed it, adjusting their course towards it.

"Don't look now" he whispered "but we've got a new contact, ten o'clock."

Bonnie retrieved a pair of binoculars from her belt and looked in the direction Laszlo had given. "I see it. Covvies too, apparently."

Amanda retrieved a pistol-sized device, a target indicator, from her left thigh and pointed it in the same direction. After a barely audible beep, she added "A freighter, one of ours. But I can't identify it; there's nothing in the registry."

"Then it's an ONI vessel" Laszlo replied, still keeping the new ship in his rifle's crosshair.

"Why would ONI send in a ship uncloaked and on a suicide charge?" Bonnie asked incredulously, still looking intently through the binoculars.

"It probably was cloaked." Laszlo told her. "But it must've passed through an átok EM shield accidentally, disabling all stealth systems."

"Will you cut out the hunagarian?" Bonnie retorted. "You keep tossing it into sentences randomly, and I'll ask Hào if I can join his team instead."

"Cut it out, you two!" Amanda whispered sharply. "Look what's happening."

In the distance, the anonymous freighter had become clearer; there was no doubt that it was charging towards the enemy ships. Conversely, the corvettes began charging their lateral pulse laser turrets, light clearly building up along their sides.

A loud boom echoed throughout the area as the mystery vessel fired a missile – which Laszlo quickly identified as a standard Navy-issue Archer – from somewhere in its fore section. What looked like two small objects fell off the missile just as it left the firing tube, but Laszlo paid no attention to it as he followed the missile with the crosshair until it impacted with the leading corvette.

The enemy ship's shields flared, shimmered, and then dissipated, but leaving the ship unscathed. Moments later, the corvette's sides flared up and fired its pulse laser beams, followed by its companions. Although gaining speed, the unregistered freighter was hit by half the beams. The hull blazed and burned away in seconds, exposing the interior.

Despite the damage, the ship continued to speed towards the enemy. Laszlo had a dawning realization – the freighter intended to ram the corvette formation in lieu of the fire power it didn't have. As it closed in, it seemed the Covenant noticed this as well, as they started to speed off – too late.

The freighter slammed into the leading corvette's mid section nose-first with a series of loud creaks and bangs. But it was nothing compared to what came a second later; a large blue-white – almost electric-looking – round light appeared, engulfing all four ships before disappearing almost as soon as it appeared – with no trace of the ships that had been there seconds before.

"Take cover!" Laszlo yelled, knowing what would follow. As he said it, a white sphere appeared where the ships had been moments before and expanded with a boom. The three spartans huddled closely together behind the sand dune, bracing for the incoming shockwave.

After roughly fifteen seconds, the white light passed over them, forcing Laszlo to shut his eyes tightly. A microsecond later, the shock reached them and threw the spartans back several meters. Laszlo impacted with the ground and lay there, not opening his eyes.

Only after a minute did the spartans open their eyes, finding the air filled with what looked like blue snowflakes, but Laszlo identified as the remaining particles of the slipspace shockwave.

"That was…unexpected." Bonnie grunted and got to her feet, offering a hand to Laszlo.

He took it and was hoisted back up to his feet. "Oh really? Myself, I've been expecting an ONI-controlled vessel to get here, charge straight into a cluster of Covenant ships and send all of them into slipspace, resulting in a violent shockwave hitting everything in a ten mile radius."

"Whoever was behind the wheels" Amanda said, getting up slowly as though she was still disoriented "he or she had to have been a pretty quick – and unconventional – thinker. Shame we'll never get to meet; I'd have liked to congratulate on the success of destroying three Covenant ships."

Laszlo returned his thoughts to the two objects from the missile, and it dawned on him who it might be. "Actually, I think you will get the chance, Amanda."

Both Amanda and Bonnie cast him puzzled glances, but he cut in before they could ask. "Let's get over there. We have three very special people to meet, and they might need medical attention."

***

Almost ten minutes later, they entered the broken forest beneath where the shockwave had originated. They stepped over broken branches and, to their delight, several banshee, spirit and phantom wreckages; it seemed most of the fighter craft had crashed due to the shockwave. With neither fighters, dropships nor corvettes in the air, it seemed the Covenant had lost their hold in the vicinity. Laszlo hoped that everyone back at Olympus was mobilizing already to make use of this sudden advantage.

Finally, Laszlo reached the peak of a slope and spotted two parachute packs on the ground, but no sign of any people. He smirked to himself as he took off the helmet; it had been as he suspected after all.

"All right, time to come out gyerekek!" he yelled in the direction of the chutes. "Your shabby old tanár wants to get a good look at you again."

Bonnie and Amanda, who had also appeared on the top of the slope, didn't have time to look puzzled before two more spartans appeared; the first – a male – leapt down from a tree fifty feet away and limped towards them, hinting at damaged legs; the second one, a woman, appeared from behind a large rock, clutching her sides and right arm with the other, suggesting broken ribs and arm.

The spartan from the tree approached Laszlo at a slow pace while removing his helmet, revealing a young, yet lightly bearded face with a coy grin. "It's been too long, old man."

"Roger!" Laszlo exclaimed fatherly, positively beaming as he walked up to his former trainee and grabbed him in a headlock while ruffling his rows of black hair with the other hand.

"Let me go, you're embarrassing me!" Roger said indignantly, but Laszlo had already let go of him to do the same to his teammate, who appeared to be too wounded to stop him from doing so.

"Is anybody going to tell us what's going on?" Bonnie asked annoyingly; both she and Amanda had merely looked on in surprise until then.

"Oh, sorry" Laszlo said, letting go of the woman – who hurried to fix her hair where the older spartan had ruffled it. "I trained a group of spartans years back, and these two are among those. Among the best of them, in fact. Roger" he clapped the dark-skinned spartan with the row haircut on the shoulder, "and Mica" he gestured at the woman. "Kids, these fine women are Bonnie and Amanda." None of the two said anything, apparently not believing the two women worthy of talking to.

"As for what's going on" Laszlo cut in before Bonnie could ask again "I believe my two ex-trainees here were given a ship by ONI – or 'acquired' it on their own – to investigate the situation in Greece-"

"You mean they may have stolen an entire ship!?" Amanda said in disbelief.

Laszlo ignored the interruption. "…as scans and other electronics proved incapable of this due to the Covenant's deployment of electromagnetic shielding. But during their insertion, they passed through an EM field, thus deactivating the ship's cloaking systems and exposing them to the Covenant corvettes. In an attempt to get away – or at least take as many Covenant as possible with them – they charged towards the corvette cluster while setting a timer on their own ship's slipspace drive. Then, they put on parachutes and grabbed onto the archer missile, jumping off just after it was out of the firing tube. Then of course, the FTL drive activated and created a rift engulfing both the freighter and the corvettes, which then immediately collapsed on itself, sending all four ships into who-knows-where and causing a shockwave. Judging by their injuries" – he cast glances at James and Mica – "I guess that they were only halfway down when the shockwave occurred, which then sent them tumbling down. Is that just about correct?" he finished, turning to Roger.

"Yeah" Roger said "just about."

"Good. Does that satisfy you, Bonnie?"

Bonnie nodded absently, taking in everything she had heard. Laszlo turned back towards Roger, Mica and James. "Now, seeing as your ride's gone, you should come with us back to base."

"You still have a base in this Covenant-infested hell-hole?" Roger asked with a tone of surprise.

"Sure do. We believe there are other surviving UNSC enclaves too somewhere. Thanks to you, we might be able to start looking."

"Then what're we waiting for?" Mica said excitedly. "Let's go-ouch!" she clutched her ribs again, shaking in pain.

"You take it slow" Laszlo told her sternly. "We don't want you to end up like James. All right; Amanda, you take point. Roger; you're lookout" he gave his sniper rifle to Roger, who took it instinctively, " and you'll be riding piggyback on Bonnie" – Roger jerked in surprise and started to protest against the order, using a wide array of vulgar words for emphasis – "Finally, I carry Mica."

Mica jerked away as though shocked by an electrical current. "No. Fucking. Way." She spoke with venom in every word.

"Oh, don't be such a baby; it'll be faster this way" Laszlo said heartily as he grabbed and slung her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. She readied to protest more, but Laszlo's shoulder armor pushed against her ribs, causing her to yowl in pain instead.

Looking around, Laszlo found Amanda already moving back towards the base and Roger finally giving in to jumping up to let Bonnie carry him, albeit he tossed many rude terms her way whilst doing so. The two then trotted after Amanda, while Laszlo looked on, a wide smile on his face; it was always good to see old acquaintances.

"Will you get a move on already, dammit!? It's bad enough that I'm being carried like this without being last back to base!"

***

1958 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Olympus Base, Periphery of Continental Greece, Hellenic Republic

"Seriously, where in the ever-loving hell are they?"

Rachel-343 took another look through the opening into the mountain in which Olympus Base had been built, not far from the infamous "Hot Gates" where three hundred spartan warriors had once held the line against a massive Persian army, still not seeing Laszlo or the others of Brown Team.

"Relax" Varghese-A405 – also known as Winter Two, and the second-in-command and heavy weapons specialist of the team of the same name – said in a reassuring, deep voice from his corner farther into the cave, just beside the entrance into the actual base. "They probably just went to check the area again, with that shockwave affecting the terrain."

"Maybe they want to hog all survivors to themselves." Balduin-324 – or Winter Four – chuckled while loitering against the east wall, slotting shells into his M45 Tactical Shotgun, true to his occupation as team close quarters combat specialist.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Sure, Bal, there's usually loads of survivors left behind after slipspace ruptures. How could I forget?"

"I meant from the crashed fighters" Balduin said with a coyly cheerful tone, as though explaining to a stubborn child what one plus one was. "They weren't sucked into god-knows-where, now were they?"

"Give me a break" Rachel countered mockingly. "Only Spartans survive freefalls from such altitudes."

"Aha! That's what the major and his female friends are doing!" Balduin exclaimed triumphantly.

"What, freefalling?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"No, searching for spartans freefalling out of that freighter!"

There was a second's pause before Rachel burst out laughing. "Yeah right" she said, struggling to hold back another wave of laughter. "Maybe they're trying to save the UEG Secretary-General too. Maybe the Security Committee while they're at it. Don't be ridiculous." She finished, returning to her serious self.

"I'm totally serious" Balduin said indignantly.

Rachel curled her lips into a smug grin. "Enough to wanna bet?"

Balduin smiled too. "You bet – no pun intended."

"All right" Rachel mused. "Twenty shotgun shells. No less."

"Deal" Balduin said, but Rachel had already turned away from him.

Varghese sat himself down beside Balduin, several components of a grenade launcher in his massive hands and with an expression of mixed amusement and confusion. "You do know that it doesn't make any difference whether you win or lose, right? I mean, the loser will just go get extra shells from the armory."

"It just feels more appropriate to bet something" Balduin told the tall and broad-shouldered spartan cheerfully.

"You ARES types are mighty curious, you know that?" Varghese said bemusedly.

"We had a curious mentor" Balduin chuckled.

Rachel paid no attention to Balduin's and Varghese's conversation, as she had turned towards Alexander-B057 – Winter Three, designated marksman in the team – who stood to her right, watching the area through his sniper rifle.

"Have you seen them yet?" she asked him.

Alexander's face wrinkled into an annoyed expression as he set down the rifle on the nearest rock, but Rachel didn't take note of this as she instead focused on his now free hands, which were quickly flexing into various gestures.



Alexander was incapable of speech, after a complication with one of the augmentation procedures that ended up crushing his vocal chords. But that wasn't his only handicap; the occipital capillary reversal enhancement had also rendered his eyes permanently blinded. To be allowed into service, he had his eyes replaced with THERMOPYLAE-grade optical device replacements and equipped a Neural Interface-linked instant text message module in his helmet. With recent upgrades to the THERMOPYLAE optics, his replacement eyes were actually even more potent than those of other spartans – even offering an inbuilt scope function – and with some practice the message module made communication in battle situations almost as effective as normal speech – assuming the recipient had a heads-up display – and provided its own set of benefits organic speech wasn't capable of. Despite this, Alexander resented the fact that he had to rely on technology for things others had for granted.

"Well duh" Rachel uttered coldly. Handicap or not, she would always be as rude to Alexander as to anyone else. "A lot of things can change in five minutes. Wouldn't a marksman know that? Or maybe you missed that class to polish your eye?"

Alexander's face reddened almost instantly, but he continued to make the hand signs with laser precision. 

"You didn't say anything!" Rachel said with contempt, losing her patience. "You signed – about the only method of communication you-"

"Rachel!" a sleepy Chinese-toned voice bellowed from the now open door into the base, belonging to Winter One – Hào-B296, leader of the team. He held his helmet clutched in his left hand, the other holding back a yawn. He had unruly – but still within the bounds of military hair-length regulations – black hair, and his brown eyes were ringed with fatigue. "Quit it, now!"

The two spartans cast each other a last, contemptuous look, before Rachel slowly stepped away and sat down against the west wall, opposite to Balduin and Varghese. Hào looked at both of them warily for a few seconds before looking contented. Alexander picked up his sniper again and continued his watch.

Only a minute or so later, however, he put down the rifle again and signed: 

"Hah!" Balduin shouted, cut off in the middle of a new conversation with Varghese to check what Alexander had to relay. "I win! Now, hand over, Pyro Girl!"

"He didn't say they were spartans!" Rachel sputtered defensively, but somehow aware of what Alexander would sign next.

 The sniper had a mocking grin on his face when he signed it.

Resisting the urge to tell the men where to shove the shells, she picked up an ammunition box, made a quick check to make sure there were exactly twenty cartridges inside, and then lobbed it to Balduin, who caught it with one hand.

Sure enough, Laszlo, Bonnie and Amanda trotted into the cave one by one shortly after, and indeed they had two other spartans with them – one slung over Laszlo's shoulder, another riding piggyback on Bonnie and holding Laszlo's sniper rifle. All of them were almost instantly recognizable to Rachel; she had trained with them for years way back. But she didn't like what she recognized – those two individuals had always annoyed her.

"Crap!" she yelled a little louder than she had intended. "Not you ugly fucks again."

The one wielding the sniper rifle leaped off of Bonnie and removed his helmet, revealing a stubbly face – Roger, as she had correctly assumed. "Well, if it isn't Pyro Girl." he said, his lips curled into a mocking grin. "What're you doing here? Trying to set a record by burning down a mountain?"

Rachel got up and approached Roger, looking back into his eyes defiantly. "Unfortunately, no. But what about you? Taking piggyback lessons? Or did you settle for killing James, seeing as he's not with you?"

Roger's grin turned to an angry expression. "Don't talk about him like that, bitch! Unless, of course, you want to be reminded that we have actually done something, while you sat in this cozy cave on your butt doing-"

"Oh, that's it, you little runt! You asked for it-"

"Rachel, Roger! Lock it down, both of you!" Laszlo bellowed to them sternly. Both of them turned to look at him. "You're comrades! Act like it."

"I have no comrades left." Rachel said matter-of-factly. As the words escaped her lips, images of an armored person with a large piece of metal shrapnel lodged into her visor and blood oozing out of the cracks, then a bright explosive light engulfing another armored figure only a few feet behind her flashed in her mind.

"And my only comrades are Mica and James" Roger said while gesturing at Mica – who was still trying to get out of Laszlo's fireman's carry.

"I've had just about enough of this inter-team rivalry duma" Laszlo mumbled calmly, but for once Rachel thought he looked scary, almost mad with anger. "It was well enough in-training while you were pushing each other to the max, but now it's just an obstacle."

"You can't change the way nature works!" Rachel objected. "Fire and water don't mix."

"Wrong!" Laszlo exclaimed. "When lava and water mix, they turn into land. Just as those two elements unite to create something better, so too must different spartans band together to counter their weaknesses and compliment their strengths for maximum success."

"Lava isn't fire, so that point is-" Roger started to interject, interrupted by Laszlo whose face was now getting as red as Rachel's.

"The Covenant are on Earth! They come closer to seizing the planet with every passing minute, while you stand here, bickering like idiots! I don't know about you, but I want to stop them, before every last one of us is annihilated! I want to save the human race. How about you? No, don't answer, it's obvious! From now on, you will get along, and you will like it! Have I made myself perfectly clear this time around?"

Rachel slowly calmed while looking with disgust at Roger, who did the same. After several seconds, they controlled their expressions into a more neutral stance and replied "Yessir!" Then, with much effort, they raised their right hands and shook. Laszlo eased back into his normal cheery, smiling expression when he saw this.

"Well spoken, sir" Balduin said, walking up to Laszlo and patting what he assumed to be the older spartan's shoulder, but in reality Mica's bottom. Realizing his mistake, he jumped out of range of her legs just in time.

Rachel watched as Laszlo faked a cough and turned to Hào, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't mean to start ranting on your subordinate. I just haven't managed to let go of these kids yet – you know, old dogs never learn to sit, right?"

"Considering the rank ladder" Hào said, still tiredly but with a hint of amusement "you're superior to me, so you had every right to do what you just did. But to be honest, it was also a pleasant surprise to see a wildcat like Rachel put in her place."

Rachel wanted to feel annoyed, but found herself unable to and even joined the others in soft chuckling at the remark. Laszlo had a point; they were fighting for Earth this time. It was humanity's final stand. They would have to do everything in their power to have any hope of success. She mentally decided to do whatever it took to ensure that victory – even if it meant cooperating with people like Roger and Mica.

"Anyway" Hào continued "we'd better hurry, major, or we'll be late to the last-minute strategy meeting. Alex and Rachel, head down to the pelican bay; Jelly and Malin might be just about done upgrading the new bird. Varg!" – Varghese stood a little straighter – "you and Bal take the two newcomers to the medbay. They might need an hour or so in the surgery suite."

"That's bullshit!" cried Mica. "We're ready n-ouch!"

"No you're not, missy." Laszlo whistled heartily while he tossed Mica over onto Varghese's shoulders. Meanwhile, Balduin walked over to Roger, who reluctantly let himself loiter against him. The group then went through the entrance, followed by Hào and Laszlo and then Rachel and Alexander. While Hào and Laszlo went straight ahead and Varghese and company to the left, Rachel and Alexander took to the right, the nearest route to the pelicans.

They walked in silence, until Rachel finally decided to swallow her pride and act halfway there. She turned to face the cyborg sniper, but instead of talking she flexed her fingers and hands to form hand signs.



Alexander looked on in surprise for a fraction of a second before managing a pleased expression. 

***

2007 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ 

Olympus Base, Periphery of Continental Greece, Hellenic Republic

Hào and Laszlo walked briskly along the snaking corridors until stopping before a door guarded by two stern-looking MPs, pistols at the ready. The oldest of the quartet gave the spartans a slow nod, but his expression didn't change. Hào replied with a curt nod of his own, then opened the door with the tap of a button.

Shortly followed by Laszlo, he entered a spacey, but by now packed, room, filled with charts, hologram projectors and field notes. A round oak table occupied the center, with a collection of men and women standing around it – those few remaining high-ranking officers picked to lead the country's remaining forces.

Directly opposite to Hào and the entrance sat Brigadier General Ulucan Barak, a shaggy-haired and unshaven man sporting numerous scars and burn injuries across his face and hands – the left hand also missing its pinky. Under other circumstances, such rugged appearance might have been considered a flaw, but in the field he gave the impression of being a man who understood exactly what those under his command had to go through, which was always a plus. Despite his ruggedness and apparent old age, he was actually on the younger side of the average age for general-grade personnel – supposedly, he had been promoted to one-star general little more than a month back out of necessity after the crippling loss of high-ranking brass during the fall of Reach.

The general looked up from a data pad and glanced at the two spartans. Hào and Laszlo snapped off simultaneous salutes, which Barak returned tiredly. "We have waited for you" he added after the spartans had lowered their hands. "Join us."

Hào and Laszlo did as asked, walking up to the table to the right of another huge armored figure – Aksel-113, leader of Gentry Team. The thick-necked, blond-haired spartan gave Hào a nod, which Laszlo enthusiastically returned in his place.

"Now" Barak continued "we're all here. Most of you already know the plan, but for those who were absent" – he glanced at Laszlo – "I'll repeat it." He tapped a button in front of him, and a hologram emitted from the center of the table, showing Greece.

"Thanks to the destruction of the Covenant air assets in this area, we're finally able to properly mobilize our forces and dispatch them without risking one hundred percent casualties. The top priority target has been determined to be Athens; it currently functions as the local Covenant headquarters, and houses – as evidenced by intercepted communiqués – a Prophet. Said communiqués also reference to two high-ranking leaders; a Brute 'Army Commander' – a rank not referenced since the Harvest Campaign, as far as we're aware – and an Elite 'Field Marshall' – the top-tier ground force commander rank within the Covenant military. The presence of such high-ranking officials suggests that Greece is very important to the Covenant, and we believe we know why."

The general tapped another button, and the holographic map zoomed out to the rest of Mediterranean Europe and North Africa, with red arrows pointing out from Greece in all directions. "Greece lies relatively close to the African continent, which has been determined as a very important target for the Covenant – in fact the majority of their resources seem to be poured into that theater, around Mombasa and Voi, Kenya in particular. Additionally, it's easier to reach than many other locations on Earth due to the hole in the orbital defense grid that was dealt there by the first Covenant task force – both Athens and Malta stations were successfully destroyed by Covenant bombs. This fact would make it an ideal beachhead for Covenant forces to launch more invasions against east Africa. But that's not all."

He pressed a third button, and a second holographic image showing a spire towering over the easily recognizable skyscrapers of Athens appeared to the left of the main projection. "The Covenant haven't stopped at making it a beachhead and glorified outpost; they've built an impressive amount of various structures throughout the whole region. Factories in Thessaly, airborne refit stations in Thessaloniki, methane storage depots in Patras, even what appears to be Grunt breeding grounds and Drone hives in the Peloponnese Region, and perhaps the most troubling of all, a spire in Athens and a massively powerful jamming device built over Parthenon. The spire – although evidently not finished – is of particular note, as it matches the descriptions of a spire-like structure witnessed during the fall of Reach, one which turned out to be a teleporter – or, more accurately, a teleportation 'receiver node'. Said construction allowed the Covenant to transport a supercarrier right under the UNSC's noses directly to Reach's surface. However, the spire in Athens is also much larger, and appears to have additional structures connected to it."

"The Lieutenant here" – he gestured at Hào – "has come to the conclusion that this means the Athens spire has – or will have, once it's finished – additional functions; more specifically, it won't be limited to acting as a receiver node – a way for Covenant ships in orbit to slip past the orbital defense grid – but also function as a 'sender' node – allowing it to 'send' ships to other receivers. If this is true – which I think we all believe – then that means Greece is indeed a beachhead – a massive one – but not only that; it's also an R&R zone. Through the spire, ships in orbit will be able to slip past the defense grid, receive repairs as needed at the refit stations, rearm its ground complement with fresh weapons out of the factories, and receive drone and grunt reinforcements, then they can once more be sent to where they're needed – provided there's a receiver spire – fresh and ready to go all-out once more. Obviously, this would make the Covenant siege a hundred times more difficult to lift."

"We've determined that the spire is the most important component of the Covenant's plans, so that's our primary target. But to even have a chance of achieving that goal, we need a larger force than the one we have now. Thus, our immediate objective is to search the country to track down and save any remaining UNSC forces we can find; hopefully, it'll be enough to let us assault Athens before the spire is completed. Our secondary ulterior goal is to destroy the jamming device; with it gone, we can call for reinforcements or orbital bombardment, which would make our job much easier. But, should we get the chance to take out any of the other high-priority targets, or even smaller Covenant operations in the area whilst collecting survivors, we'll take it; anything that puts a wrench in their plans is beneficial for us."

Hào had already heard all this once, but he was still surprised at how clever the plan the Covenant had conceived was; the alien juggernaut's strategy had been little more than simple swarm or attrition tactics throughout the whole war. To see something so well thought-out and complicated was a very unpleasant surprise, especially since it was humanity's last stronghold at stake this time.

Laszlo broke the short silence. "So, what're the deployment orders?"

Barak turned off the holograms and stood up. "We're splitting our current forces into two groups to cover more ground in our search. Group One – to which you, your team, the newcomers and Hào's team belong to – will head north. With luck, there's some marines left from the task force sent to reinforce the country before the Covenant seized full control. If Lieutenant Hào's analysis of the last few days' COM traffic is accurate, there may also be some spartans there. If given an opening, Group One may also disable some of Thessaly's factories and Thessaloniki's refit stations, if any possible local survivors have not done so already. This group will be led by Colonel Kristi Johansen." He nodded to the woman sitting on his left. Colonel Johansen was the commanding officer of Special Warfare Group Five – what remained of it, anyway, to which Brown Team counted. Her hair was brown, though graying, with equally brown eyes.

"Group Two" Barak continued. "– with Gentry Team as the spearhead – will cut west, in the direction of Patras and the Peloponnese Region. If possible, they will also strike a blow to the Covenant in those respective areas. This group will be commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Dimitrios Alevras". The man to the general's right straightened somewhat upon hearing his name.

"Your team, major" Johansen added, "will drive ahead of the rest of the group in mongooses, providing forward reconnaissance – pinpointing targets of note and locating survivors on the ground – and disabling anti-air assets to allow a smooth transition for the rest of us. Meanwhile, Winter Team will remain airborne alongside the majority of the group, bar two members who have been chosen to link up with our deep recon teams outside of Athens – just in case we're not fast enough – and another member who will stay at the base for a little longer and team up with the two newcomers."

"Have those three been chosen?" Laszlo asked curiously.

"Bal and Malin will go deep recon" Hào told him. "But we haven't decided who will team up with your two 'apprentices'. Personally, I'd recommend Var-"

"I recommend Winter Five, Rachel-343, for that, sir." Laszlo said importantly, not at Hào, but Barak. Hào raised his eyebrow skeptically; Rachel had just gotten into a fight with Roger. What was Laszlo thinking? Did he want to see if his lecturing them had paid off?

"Very well." Barak said, stroking his stubble with his pinky-less hand. "Unless Winter One had someone else in mind…"

Laszlo eyed Hào hopingly. Hào sighed, deciding to play along. "No, sir. Winter Five will do."

"Excellent" Barak mumbled, managing to sound satisfied. "Dismissed." Everyone saluted and then made their way to the exit. Hào and Laszlo were first, speeding towards the hangar bay.

Hào glanced at Laszlo, who once again had a hearty grin. "You planned that even before the meeting, didn't you?"

"What?" Laszlo replied innocently. "I had to know whether my teachings ever meant anything to them."

"I understand that" Hào said tiredly, holding back a yawn. "But is this really a good time for your field tests? We can't afford disunity at a time like this."

"And thus it's the perfect way to test them. But don't worry; I'm quite certain I made at least a minor impression this time – you can see it in their eyes."

Hào didn't reply, busy thinking whether he should take cover once Rachel realized what had been decided about her or not.

***

Laszlo entered the hangar bay, followed by Hào, to find both their respective teams not far away around a Pelican – one which Laszlo instantly realized had been modified; additional plates were welded onto the craft, with what appeared like jackal shield gauntlets on top around the engines and prow; the machine gun at the back had been replaced with a gauss cannon; two more chainguns had been added on each side of the standard issue one, and the missile pods appeared somewhat larger than normal – no doubt additional missiles were added.

"I think you've outdone yourself this time, Jelly." Hào said, studying the craft up close.

Yelizaveta-G141, called 'Jelly' or Winter Seven, rose out of the cockpit and leapt down just beside Hào, her brown hair flailing around wildly whilst doing so. "Why thank you, boss." She replied with childish cheerfulness; it was obvious she was the youngest member of the team, not just in body, but also in spirit.

"Are those really jackal shield gauntlets?" Laszlo asked curiously, having walked up to the two Spartan-IIIs.

"You betcha" Yelizaveta exclaimed. "Placed them at strategic points ‘round the craft to provide maximum defensive capability to otherwise vulnerable areas. I'm not losing this bird like the two previous ones – may they rest in peace."

Yelizaveta had an almost unhealthy attachment to machines and vehicles – or at least those she built or modified herself. But it was something Hào had told Laszlo that the team overlooked, because of her sheer brilliance – what Laszlo wondered was how they overlooked the fact that she even managed to acquire the technology she incorporated into her inventions; jackal defense gauntlets were one thing – Spartan-IIIs always collected those from the battlefield on instinct, as they hadn't always fought in protective MJOLNIR armor, even though it was a breach of the Cole Protocol – but extra weaponry and plating like on this pelican would have to be taken from other UNSC vehicles – meaning that she likely took apart other vehicles to improve her own. Somehow, he doubted she had permission to do so.

"Of course" she continued excitedly, "it's not just the defensive capabilities I've improved; the weapons are also upgraded, and I took the liberty of adding some too; this is a true merge of a dropship and a gunship. And just in case all this isn't enough" – she paused briefly to take a breath and wipe some grease from her face – "I added another trick."

She knocked on the side of the craft, and to Laszlo's surprise it opened up and a long missile zoomed out. "Ares missiles" she explained. "Used to be standard issue on UNSC warships before the Archer was made. These babies would've rotten in storage hadn't I acquired them. And if we find ourselves in a pinch, we have a little extra punch. I couldn't add more than two, though, so we have to use them sparingly."

Laszlo didn't know what to say; he continued to marvel at how resourceful the young spartan were. Instead, he left Hào and Yelizaveta to seek out Bonnie and Amanda.

He found them sitting a few paces away near the pelican alongside Varghese and Rachel, the former tweaking with a rocket launcher, the latter turning a lighter on and off. They stood up once they saw him.

"You know what we're to do now, sir?" Amanda asked stoically.

"We'll take mongooses and speed ahead of the main force, providing forward reconnaissance." He replied, putting on his helmet. Rachel looked up for a moment, and then returned to turning her lighter on and off. Laszlo could've sworn he had seen a hint of jealousy in her expression.

Laszlo and his teammates mounted a mongoose each waiting further into the bay. He started it, enjoying the sound of the vehicle's engines. He turned to make sure Amanda and Bonnie were also ready, and cast a fleeting glance in Rachel's direction, where he saw her looking rebellious and talking to Hào – apparently he had told her she would have to wait behind while everyone else moved out. Cracking a smile underneath the visor, he drove out of the bay and out onto the snaking mountain path outside. The sun had almost set; they would be covered by the darkness.

And so Operation: DIVINE SON had begun.

1
Operation: DIVINE SON

First Lieutenant Joseph Forenson looked out the Falcon's open passenger bay, his helmet tucked under his arm. He could plainly see the damage and destruction to Thermopylae, but remained impassive as the aircraft continued its predesignated flight. More countless victims of the war, he thought. It never gets better.

Ever since humanity made first contact with the Covenant in 2525, the war became something everyone lived with, and constantly feared. Over the stretch of the entire conflict, which reached almost three decades, the deadly aliens destroyed planet after planet, starting with the Outer Colonies, and working their way in. Half the Inner Colonies were gone now too, and the fight had finally reached Earth. By now, the population had gone from 23 billion to a dwindling 200 million, and dozens of planets had been lost.

The war wasn't likely to go on for much longer either. Reach had been destroyed barely two months ago, and when even ONI Section Two couldn't keep it quiet, there had been mass hysteria among the civilians. Forenson knew that the war was about to come to an end, if the UNSC couldn't find some way to overcome the odds, Earth would be lost. No doubt the extinction of humanity would follow.

''Which is why every victory counts so much now. Even the small ones.'' The Lieutenant glanced the other way. Apart from the four other Orbital Drop Shock Troopers (ODSTs) riding with him, there was a Pelican dropship with ten more Marines inside, as well as a second Falcon escorting it and carrying five additional troops. His Commanding Officer (CO), Lieutenant Colonel Max Gauthier, had advised Company Commanders not to ride in the most conspicuous vehicle during insertions, as they made the biggest (and more often than not, the most obvious) targets to hostile anti-air weaponry. There were three other flight groups like theirs, with a platoon of soldiers in each group. They made up his Company, one of over a hundred that made up the 36/8 ODST Division under the command of Brigadier General Francisco Cortez.

''Impressive numbers, no doubt. But the Covenant have wiped out more than that before. We've shown them what we're made of, but we're only human. And we still die like humans.''

"Team, we've received reconnaissance of Covenant activity up ahead," the Pelican copilot's voice was heard on the COM units of everyone in the platoon. "We're coming in for a landing. You're to proceed through this district and meet up with Spartan Winter Team. There'll be another Company coming in to retake this area later."

Here we go. "Lock and load, boys!" he shouted to the ODSTs in his Falcon. "Let's take these bastards feet first into hell!" He put on his helmet, and polarized the visor, reflecting everything he looked at in silver. The two Marines stationed to the aircraft's turrets took their weapons off their backs and braced for landing. Shifting his BR55 Battle Rifle to his right hand, the Lieutenant grabbed the handle and leaned back casually until the Falcon lowered itself onto the ground.

Forenson waited until the vehicle were hovering a foot above the charred asphalt, and jumped out. The ODSTs on the other Falcon did the same, while the Pelican made a wide turn as it too settled in for a landing.

"Helljumpers, let's move!" he said. "We're going to pay a visit to Winter Team. Saldivar, you're on point!"

As the platoon dashed down the street in formation, Forenson shut out all thought of the ruins around him that was once a city, and concentrated on the mission ahead. Any daydreaming now could be fatal if there were enemy snipers hiding around. Or worse, a Covenant ambush. Emotion would have to come later.

We may be only human, he thought. ''But these Spartans are so much more than that. They're the key to our victory.''

''We're going to win this war. No matter what.''

 There is no glory without honour 21:24, October 14, 2010 (UTC)

2
Battle of Boston (Sgt. Maj. Lindsey Williamson subplot)\

0500 Hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Behind Covenant Lines, Financial District, Boston, USA

Grand Theft Scarab:

Sergeant Lindsey Williamson and the rest of her ODST squad crept through the hallways of a skyscraper in the Financial District. Lindsey turned a corner first, her image clouded by her active camouflage. Williamson, unlike the rest of her ODST squad was clad in SPI armor intended for use by SPARTAN IIIs. The story of how she got a hold of the armor, not to mention the augmentation drugs necessary to use it was a long story a quest for vengeance and a number of technically illegal acts.

Lindsey was only six-years old when her homeworld was glassed of Jericho IV by the Covenant, and her parents killed in the attack. She later found out death of her parents was the work a Sangheilli, Idno 'Apassee. From then on, she swore she'd kill as many Covenant as she could, and preferably, 'Apassee himself.

Towards these ends, Lindsey tried to join the SPARTAN III program, but was too young for the first batch of IIIs and too old for the second. So, Lindsey began researching genetic augmentations, and saw no reason why she could not use the drugs if she could just get her hands on them. Like all illegal goods, there has to be a black market for these things somewhere.

At age 18, Lindsey found the drugs she needed. Of course, she did not have the money to buy them off the scientist. But, there were other ways an attractive 18-year-old blonde could get what she wanted out of middle-aged man.... So, that was how an 18-year old UNSC Marine recruit managed to make it through the worst that first basic and then ODST training could throw at her. And when the UNSC found out she had stolen both augmentation drugs and suit of SPI armor meant for some Sierra III, rather than throw her in prison, the UNSC brass thought it would be a better idea to give her an ODST squad to command on some of the most dangerous missions of the war.

That is why Lindsey was where she was now, preparing to steal a Scarab by jumping on board from a destroyed skybridge with the help of a jump pack.

"Troopers, follow me, we've got two Scarabs parked below us", Lindsey said, "Ramirez, Dunn, MacTavish, and I will take the one of the right. "Roycewicz, Sanderson, Mui, Jacobs, and Johansson", you take the one of the left".

A few seconds later, Lindsey yelled, "All right, everyone, take out those troops on the top deck". On Lindsey's commands a hail of bullets, grenades, and 102mm rockets rained down on the Scarabs, blasting apart Elites, throwing the broken bodies of Jackals off the top deck, and cutting down Grunts, who tried to flee, but found they had nowhere to run on the elevated Scarab deck.

At Lindsey's signal, all ten ODSTs activated their jet packs and flew towards the deck as an energy sword-wielding Elite exited the door to the lower decks, presumably to investigate what was going on. Lindsey unsheathed her combat knife and adjusted her course so that she flew straight towards the Sangheili's back. Lindsey kicked the Elite with both feet as she landed, knocking the alien to the ground. She then jumped on top of the downed Elite and stuck the knife straight through it's neck, killing it in one swift movement.

Lindsey heard movement from behind her. Not having time to draw her submachine gun, she seized the Elite's energy sword and thrust the blade through the chest of a second Elite. Lindsey drew her M7S silenced SMG with one hand and stepped forward down the ramp to the lower deck of the Scarab, still holding the dead Elite impaled on her Energy sword, using it as a shield.

Dunn tossed a grenade around the corner, into the cockpit of the Scarab. As soon as the grenade exploded, Lindsey and the others rushed in. The ODST's weapons blazed, cutting down any Covenant that survived the grenade blast. Lindsey herself mowed down an Elite and several Grunts, still using the dead Elite and a "meatshield". In seconds, all the Covenant were dead, save for a lone Unggoy, who had fled up the ramp and jumped off the body of the Scarab. "CLEAR", Lindsey yelled as she deactivated her captured energy sword and placed the captured weapon at her belt.

Seconds later, Lindsey's radio crackled to life. "Sergeant Williamson, Roycewicz here, we have successfully eliminated the second Scarab's crew, no ODST casualties."

"Excellent", Lindsey said as she entered the Scarab's driver seat, "Take command of the Scarab and follow us to the ambush point on India Sierra 93."

Operation:DIVINE SON

3
1855 Hours, October 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

North-West of Galičica Mountain, Periphery of Continental Greece, Hellenic Republic 

Norman-G124 drummed his fingers on the side of the falcon's automatic grenade launcher. He tried to relax-but found it nigh impossible. Probaly the threat of banshees shooting down the Falcon. Dagger Team had managed to escape from Mars after they had been ordered back to Earth. Of course, the sons-of-bitches at ONI had ordered them to come back from Mars. What they hadn't done was give them transport. They had simply used a hijacked Phantom to fly back to Earth, somehow surviving the brutal space battle in orbit around Luna and Earth. They had then landed somewhere in Gremany; at a Army Base, where they had surrendered the Phantom to UNSC forces. After a few hours given for shut-eye, they had been ordered to take a Falcon into Greece.

“Banshees, Nine O’Clock!” Janice warned. Norman brought his grenade launcher upwards, and Gary swung the Falcon around so he was facing the Banshees. Norman turned the grenade launcher so it was facing forwards, and waited. A moment later, two red dots appeared on his motion sensor, and then two banshees flew into visual range.

They fired. Norman’s grenade flew from his launcher, and he held down the trigger, and then let go. The grenade detonated right next to one banshee, releasing an EMP, causing it to lose power. The banshee fell towards the ground; the pilot no doubt desperately trying to re-start the power. Norman didn’t give him the chance; he simply fired another grenade directly at the banshee. The grenade, and banshee exploded in a blue ball of plasma, raining debris. A similar explosion to his right told him that the second Banshee had been destroyed.

Those banshee patrols were growing to be a nuisance. They had encountered three patrols of banshees already, and had disposed of them in the same fashion. But the Covenant forces were sure to notice the missing patrols and investigate.

They were headed to KOPIS Base, an UNSC Army base in the middle of some god-forsaken mountains. They were then supposed to link up with any UNSC army forces and reinforce them, as HIGHCOM must have thought the location to be strategically important.

The Falcon was passing over what seemed to be a site of a battle between UNSC and Covenant forces. A pair of burned out Wraith tanks, three ruined Revenants, the remains of a Scorpion, a pair of destroyed Warthogs and dozens of corpses, human and alien alike. Norman took comfort that there seemed to be more alien corpses than human.

"Damn..." Kevin whispered. The Falcon continued, it's passengers sitting in silence. The com was eerily silent-he knew the Covenant were somehow jamming communications, but it didn't stop it from being incredibly creepy. The UNSC could have completely collapsed in the region, and they wouldn't know. He couldn't realy relax either; they were under constant risk of being assaulted by banshees. On the bright side, they were nearing KOPIS Base.

"Phantoms ahead." Janice warned. Sure enough, a trio of Phantoms flying in a wedge formmation were in the air, slightly below them.

"Weapons free. Engage them." Norman ordered. The phantoms were almost certainly headed to KOPIS base, it was the only UNSC base nearby. It was unlikely to be a patrol either, because three Phantoms were too much just for a routine patrol. The only other possible reason for their numbers he could think was was that the three Phantoms were ferrying someone high ranking in the Covenant-another good reason to blow up the Phantoms.

The Falcon rose into the air as Gary fired the chin gun and Norman and Kevin openned up with the grenade launchers. 40mm grenades detonated on the Phantom to the right, and HEAT rounds impacted on the same Phantom.

"Gary, fly higher. They're nearly defenseless from above!" Janice shouted.

"You think I don't know that?" Gary snapped back. The Falcon rose again, and the Phantoms attempted to escape it. But escaping a vehicle that was faster and more manuverable than yours, all while taking heavy fire proved to be a difficult task. One of the Phantoms exploded in mid-air, and they focused on the lead Phantom next. Grenades and HEAT rounds struck the Phantom from above and behind. Both Phantoms were engaging evasive manuvers, making hitting it somewhat difficult, but still possible. Gary was tailing both Phantoms perfectly, although considering the significant manuveribility advantages they had over the Covenant dropships, it wasn't that much of a feat.

One phantom suddenly lost power and began falling towards the ground. Someone must have managed to hit the Phantom's anti-gravity pods and destroy them, Norman concluded. The final Phantom, who's pilot seemed to be growwing rather desperate, flipped his Phantom upside down. The chin-mounted concussion rifle fired two blasts onto the Phantom. Gary evaded the first, but the second nailed them below.

"Minor damage." Gary reported. Norman fired two grenades onto the concussion rifle, blasting if off the Phantom. They continued firing, and the pilot flipped his Phantom back upright again. Not that it did it any good, it still couldn't evade the Falcon, and eventually, the Phantom exploded in a blue fireball.

"How close are we?" Kevin asked.

"Not far." Gary replied. "Around five minutes. You should be able to see it soon."

"Where the FUCK is KOPIS?" Janice said nervously. They had been circling the area where KOPIS base was supposed to be, but nothing.

"I am thinking KOPIS is gone." Norman said flatly. "I mean, it seems like there was a hell of a battle-" He gestured at one of the many wrecked Wraiths. Corpses littered the the ground, and wrecked vehicles, UNSC and Covenant alike scattered the landscape. Charred ground-evidence of explosives or plasma-also scarred the landscape.

"Flare!" Janice shouted. "I see a bunch of flares!"

"Land us by those flares." Norman ordered. "We'll link up with them."

Gary landed the Falcon, and Norman stepped out of the Falcon. A single Army soldier, who's FOF tags identified him as Corporal Peter Steiner. "Sir." The army corporal said. He did not salute.

"Corporal." Norman nodded. "Where's the rest of your unit? Or your CO?"

"Dead." He said. "The Covies attacked this base in force. We put up a hell of a fight, but there were too many. They must have missed me though. Me, Private Wong and the swabbie-I mean, Crewman Lane." The army soldier nervously gestured with one hand. "They air and armor support. So did we actually, but we were pretty much outnumbered five to one. Nothing we could do. Me, Private Wong and the swabbie are just staying here, making a final stand. There's still a working AA Turret at the base, and some of the underground areas didn't get hit, so we thought he could take more Covies with us this way."

Norman nodded slowly. The Corporal's reasoning was sound. With just three of them, it was unlikely that they could survive trekking across kilometers of hostile territory. Here though, they could at least handle some Covenant air forces. But with their Falcon, he wondered if he could help them out. The Corporal's men would certainly be spending their lives if they stayed, but were they spending them well?

"Let's get moving. We should launch hit-and-run attacks on the Covenant-we'll survive longer. Hopefully, reinforcements will show up. Corporal, do you have any other assets in the base?"

"Not really." He said. "We have a Grizzly tank, but its engine took a hit. Its probally wrecked and we have no idea how to fix it." Steiner said. "There are a bunch of other damaged or destroyed vehicles as well. We had a bunch of Wolf Spider Turrets by the base, but most are completely wrecked. The Covenant got pretty sick of how resilient they were, so they burned them to nothing. We still have one working one by the south though."

"I can try to fix the Grizzly, sir." Gary said. The momment Gary said that, Steiner's face lit up like a christmas tree. A Grizzly would make life much easier for them.

"Good." Norman said. "Gary, stay here and try to repair the Grizzly. Me, Janice and Kevin will take the Falcon and recon the nearby area. Corporal Steiner, show him the Grizzly."

Norman sat himself inside the Falcon and glanced at the controls, remembering the last time he had flown one of these in training. He activated both rotors and the Falcon rose into the air. He smiled wryly when the first time he had flown a Falcon during a simulation. He had done everything right...until the Lieutenant Commander had decided to spice things up a bit by sending banshees at them. He had been promptly shot down in a matter of seconds.

This wouldn't happen today. He promised himself. Too much was at stake. As the Falcon rose into the air, he flew towards the east, allowing the vehicle to fly over the mountains.

"Janice, scan for hostiles." He ordered.

"Thermal shows nothing." She replied. "So we should be fine unless the Covies want to fight unarmed, since plasma weapons sticks up like a sore thumb on thermal." She added.

"Brutes?" Kevin asked. "I don't think spikers show up on thermal vision. And neither do needlers and gravity hammers."

"Motion sensors clear too." Norman added. "I think we can move on." The Falcon moved south. Norman kept an eye on the motion sensor on the Falcon when two red dots appeared.

"Ghosts." Janice whispered. "An elite on each one. One Major, one Minor. Permission to engage?" She asked.

"Feel free." There were two cracks from a sniper rifle.

"Targets neutralized." Norman moved the Falcon south. There were no more Covenant patrols, and he continued west to complete the patrol around the base. A burning Seraph fighter was sitting right on the peak of a mountain, and even further west, parts of a ruined Scarab walker sat in the middle of a large crater. It wasn't alone however, there were several other destroyed Covenant vehicles as well. Even further West, it became apparent that the Covenant had caught whoever was responsible for bombing their convoy. A trio of crashed Longswords were stuck in the ground.

"Scan for survivors." Norman ordered.

"Scanning." Janice replied. "None in the area." She said.

Norman turned the Falcon to the north, where there were a great amount of UNSC Army bodies. There were also some Covenant corpses, but the human bodies outnumbered the alien ones. He turned the falcon back towards the base, having completed the patrol. He flew the Falcon back towards one of KOPIS's helicopter landing pads that wasn't rubble and landed. Stepping out of the Falcon, he walked towards the base. He first headed towards the vehicle bay, where Gary was working on the Grizzly.

"Can you fix the Grizzly?" He asked Gary. Gary had the Grizzly suspended in the air by heavy lifting equipment.

"Engines took some damage. It was hit by plasma-melted through the armor and hit the engines. I'm repairing it at the momment." Gary said. "Also, the treads took a nasty hit from plasma as well. I'll have to fix them. I'm going to have to strip off armor from a few other UNSC vehicles and bolt it on to fix the melted armor problem."

"Good." Norman said. "How long will it take?"

"A while." Gary said. "You'll have lots of spare time while I fix this damn thing. Now can you shut up and let me focus?" Norman shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the base's perimeter. Corporal Steiner was staring to the west with a field binoculars on a lookout post.

"See anything on your patrol?" Steiner asked.

"Two ghosts. We neutralized them." Norman said. "We also saw a heck lot of bodies to the south-west and west of the base."

"Yeah." Steiner said. "Huge Covie convoy showed up from the south-west a few days ago. A few Longswords dropped cluster bombs on them, wasted the whole convoy. But they didn't make it out. A Covenant corvette shot all of them down."

"We saw the crash site." Norman said.

"Yeah." Steiner said. "Those guys bought us a few extra days, then even more Covenant troops showed up. Then they moved on south and also towards Athens." Steiner said. "I wonder if Athens still exists." Steiner said quietly. If it wasn't for his enhanced hearing, Norman wasn't sure he would be able to hear it at all. "My little brother works there."

Norman put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be okay." He reassured Steiner. "We'll kick the Covenant off Earth. We will win this damn war."

"Doesn't look that way to me." Steiner said gloomily. "Wake up and face the music-this is humanity's final stand. In a year and a few months, homo sapiens won't exist in this galaxy any more. What we're doing here is making sure we, as a species, take as many Covenant with us as possible. That's an open secret-not just in the UNSC, but to every human being in Sol."

Norman thought about what Steiner had said. In a pessimistic, defeatist way, Steiner was right. They had been pushed back from the outer regions of Sol-Saturn and Jupiter's moons, then a few battles in the aestroid belt. Then Mars, in which Team Dagger-his team had been sent to piss off the Covenant occupying Mars. And now the fight was on Earth. They had nowhere-else to fall back to.

But instead of voicing that, Norman said. "We'll turn the tide. We'll win this war no matter what it takes."

"You know what it'll take?" Steiner said flattly. "A massive Covenant Civil War to fuck them up from the inside. Anything short of that isn't going to work, unless you count divine intervention."

Operation:ETERNAL SPIRIT

2045 Hours, October 23rd, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Outskirts of Fuzhou, Fuzhou Municipality, Fujan province, People's Republic of China "FALL BACK! GET BACK!" Second Lieutenant Jacob Wong shouted at his platoon, while be began running. One particularily unintelligent private stared at him uncomprehendingly for a second, then the sound of a scarab crushing buildings entered the private's ears and the private ran at an astonishingly quick pace. The Scarab was about two kilometers away from them, and getting closer

Jacob fired a magazine from his MA37 into the Scarab's -he was firing blindly, but it wasn't hard to hit a large target. Nothing happened, not that he had expected anything to happen. The Scarab began to charge up its main cannon, prompting Jacob-and his entire platoon-to run even faster.

"FUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!" Sergeant First Class Terrance screamed. They dove for cover, rolled to the side and generally tried to evade the Scarab's cannon.

Then a miracle happened.

Adam strapped himself in on the oversized seats on the bridge of the captured Covenant frigate. Made for elites, the seats were massive even for him, let alone the other normal-sized people.

The ship was packed with refugees from Reach, civilian or otherwise. As per the Cole Protocol, they had made a series of random slipspace jumps, and finally to Earth.

"Emerging from Slipspace in ten seconds." First Lieutenant Peters said, a little bit nervously. He had been a linguist, working with ONI, although he knew (in theory) how to make the calculations for a slipspace jump.

"Oh. Fuck." Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Perry, the ranking officer and captain of the ship said suddenly. Adam-309 glanced at the cameras on the ship, then realized what had happened.

"Where the hell are we?" Adam asked. He glanced at the viewscreen, and suddenly realized why everyone was cursing.

They had jumped out of slipspace, right into Earth's atmosphere. But apparently, Covenant ships had the ability to preform in-atmosephere jumps-they had tried that when cornered by a pair of CCS-Class Battlecruisers when picking up a few civilains from New Alexandria.

The problem was that they were staring right at a Covenant Scarab.

"Ram that thing." Perry ordered suddenly.

"On it." Second Lieutenant Sonya Vlasova said, with just a hint of worry in her voice. The frigate moved forward, and with a crunch, the Scarab crumpled against the hull of the frigate.

"Get us higher into the air." Perry said. Crane, send out a message to any UNSC forces on Earth. Let them know we've got a bunch of civies in this ship that need evacuation. And the fact that we have a more-or-less fully functional Covenant frigate.

"Yes sir." Crane replied, not hiding his distaste.

Crane had been a civilian pilot, owning his own freighter before the Cole Protocol had banned civilian interstellar travel, leaving him unemployed, and as a result, rather unhappy with the UNSC. In his opinion, he had dangerous insurectionist sympathies, and if he wasn't so damn important to the ship's occupant's welfare, Adam would probally have shot him.

"We have a channel to Fleet Admiral Hood." Crane said. "That geezer sounds pleased."

"Admiral, sir!" Perry snapped to attention.

"Just cut to the chase, Lieutenant Commander. In case you haven't noticed, we've got a full-scale Covenant invasion on our hands at the momment."

"Yes sir." Perry said, then proceded to tell Hood how Turquoise Team had stowed away on a Covenant frigate, seized the ship and then picked up various people stranded on Reach, civilian or UNSC.

"Orders, Admiral?"

"Right. Lieutenant Commander, you will take this ship up into orbit. We are forming a perimeter around Luna's orbit. Any ground forces will assist in Tokyo."

"And the civilians, sir?"

Hood paused for a momment, then continued.

"China is all but totally under Covenant control-get to Japan-there are evac points all over there."

Adam, followed by Lucia and a large amount of army troopers and marines jogged inside the Covenant ship's armoury. He selected a plasma repeater, and then an energy sword. He prefered shotguns-many a time he had blasted an elite armed with an energy sword to bits with his shotgun when the elite's sword was just a few centimeters awa from his head.

"Adam." Lucia, clad in SPI armor already, strolled up to him whispered. "I think I managed to crack the armour lock thingy the brutes like to use. Try it on."

Lucia tossed Adam a circular object.

"It goes on the crotch area-same place the brutes put it." She said.

"Thats..." Adam tried to hide his disgust, and after a few momments, succeded. He held the device in his hand, then turned to Lucia.

"I'll go get suited up in my armor. Have you grabbed some new weapons yet?" Adam asked.

Lucia shook her head.

"Well, I'll meet you in the docking bay.

Adam made his way to the other part of the armoury where he had stored his SPI armor. He suited up, getting his helmet on last. Then he made his way to the docking bay.

'''0105 Hours, October 24th, 2552. (Military Calendar)/''' Ryu Base, Tokyo, Japan.

Adam sat inside the seats of the Spirit. The seats, like those on a the Covenant frigate were designed for elites. He wondered how it would work for the non-elite soldiers who used the Spirits, since the Covenant military was primarily made up of grunts and jackals. He was pretty sure the brutes, who were about a foot too big for the seats wouldn't really like those seats too.

"These fucking things are really damn cramped." An army trooper complained.

"Aw, quit bitching, Borris." Another trooper replied.

"He's got a point, you know." A third trooper piped up. "Ain't got NOWHERE to move.

That invited a chorus of bitching from the other troopers inside the Spirit dropship about the uncomfortableness of the Covenant dropships.

"We're are approaching the LZ." The pilot declared. "We're at Ryu Base."

4
Operation: ETERNAL SPIRIT

1907 Hours, October 23rd 2552 (Military Calendar)/  D77H-TCI Bravo 029, over Mt. Fuji and southbound, Japan

So this was it. Humanity’s cradle.

Standing next to the pilot and copilot of Bravo 29, Kodiak was enjoying himself just looking out of the cockpit windows and getting a good view of it. Below the Pelicans wings were the snowcapped slopes of Mt. Fuji, what had long been heralded as Earth’s most beautiful peak. It amazed him that despite a hundred years of pollution around the turn of the century, humans had taken great strides to preserve the Earth’s wonder.

Looking at the pilots, he noted for the first time that they were Navy, and should have been helping the space guerilla engagements that were still taking place around the Lunar perimeter. “How’d you guys get stuck ferrying ground forces.”

LTJG Yasunaka absently responded, “Things are crazy everywhere. Mombasa, Athens, Sydney, and now Beijing commands are offline. Command structure’s FUBAR; if someone with a higher tier objective rounds you up, you go where they go. And they said go to Japan.”

Kodiak nodded, feeling the back of his helmet itch his neck. He and his comrades had been fitted with unused Mark V Mjolnir armor variants. The CQC helmet and Reconnaissance suit hadn’t been made to his body’s specifications, and the result was uncomfortable, but workable. He’d take the energy shielding over a comfortable SPI suit any day. He never had been very sneaky anyway.

“Standby for your drop. We’ll be over Odaiba Island in a minute.”

“What’s there of tactical value?”

“Odaiba’s in the middle of Tokyo Bay. The higher-ups seem to think the Covies are going to land shock troops there, for a flanking maneuver. You’re going to secure the bay while they rig up a pair of mass drivers to fend off Phantoms. Won’t help ‘em if they call in capital ships, though. Word to the wise, be prepared to get out of there.” She tapped a panel. “Better get going. Goss, rig ‘em up. Hey, if you need a transport, just radio for Angel.”

“Thanks.” Kodiak said before he spun around and headed into the dark troop bay, with Ensign Gossard behind him. Waiting in the darkness were two more Spartans, the rest of Ion Team.

Strapped into harnesses meant for air-dropping cargo, the pair were likewise clad in mismatched Mark V armor. The male in parts from a Multi-Threat and MP suit was Dyne, Gamma 217. Though the MP helm masked his visage, the nod he made towards his team leader meant he was smiling under it. With an informal salute, he said, "Can't believe they're going to throw us out the back like they would an ammo crate."

As Gossard tied chains around him, Kodiak responded, "Resources are low everywhere. You're lucky you aren't being thrown out with a rock tied to you."

Sepia G330 wasn't amused. "It's a waste to put us on backup. The main invasion will be from the west." she said, checking the intake on her flamethrower. She'd needed a suit of HAZOP armor because of her use of incendiary weapons. The three of them made an odd band of ragtag supersoldiers, with Kodiak in snow camouflage, Dyne's sand paint half worn away to reveal bare steel, and Sepia's night ops color making her hardly visible in the troop bay. They looked very few in the twelve-seat bay.

It wasn't always like this. Marcus was the explosives expert, but he'd died in the augmentation procedures. So had Sam, who had been the only one capable of binding the five together into an effective unit, to act as one entity. But now the duty fell to Kodiak. He and Dyne had been best of friends since a week before arriving on Onyx, he couldn't command the respect a distant leader could. And Sepia didn't listen to anyone. Though Commander Ambrose had wanted them to stay together because they had trained together, the three were too different to form any semblance of a conventional fireteam.

But maybe that versatility of its parts would give Ion Team an edge, if Kodiak could keep them alive long enough.

"Gentlemen and lady, if I may have your attention!" the Ensign shouted. "Crew Chief Wheatley is absent today, so I'll be filling in today. Please keep your hands and arms firmly gripped to these lines at all times, 'cause if you fall from 'em there's nothing we can do. Refreshments will not be served and you will have no ability to move around the cabin, as there will be no cabin. Thank you for flying Bravo Two-Nine, and have a nice day."

With that, the rear door opened up, and light spilled in. Dyne rechecked that his sniper rifle was secure on his back, gripped his MA5C in his hands, and jumped from the back with a wild yell. Sepia was right after, silent and passive aggressive as ever, and then it was his turn. Kodiak took a running start and leaped out the back, ready to take his first steps on Earth.

Operation: HOLY FATHER

0045 Hours, October 24th 2552 (Military Calendar)/  Drop bay, UNSC Asturcon, over Sydney, Australia

For Corporal Mitch Hunter, the day had started badly. It had for humans in general, really. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of Covenant ships had arrived in system and the Earth invasion was just beginning. But for him, it might have been just a little worse.

The black plates, bodysuit and gadgets of an ODST suit weighed heavily on him, just as much as the memories they brought. The helmet’s reflective visor sat on a table, staring back at him without emotion or hint of humanity. And the grip of the gun in his hand felt cold as steel through the thermal gloves.

It was the first time since the Battle of Reach that Mitch donned the ballistic battle armor. There, his company was wiped out almost completely in the streets and buildings of New Alexandria. In the fires of a burning skyscraper, he’d barely made it out after another marine had rescued his squad. After that, he’d nearly left the service, but he owed a debt to Gunnery Sergeant Buck. He couldn’t leave it yet.

He let the helmet win their staring contest and glanced around the darkened drop bay of the light frigate UNSC Asturcon. A platoon of Task Force Oscar’s troopers milled around in silence, anticipating the drop into Sydney. All of them wore Oscar’s red, round patch, save for Hunter himself and two other troopers.

Clad in the 11th’s red armor like Mitch, Private First Class Baxter Jones sat with his back to a wall, rhythmically tapping his helmet against it in his back-and-forth nod. The trooper was listening to music inside his helmet again, likely Human Nature. Another of the Double One’s few survivors, Jones’ plasma burns had healed well since Reach. In his first four months of service, he’d been wounded five times, and returned to duty after each. The reputation for being bulletproof had earned him the nickname ‘Kevlar’, and with all the Covenant reported in the city, Mitch couldn’t help wondering if he’d get hit today.

The other was painted with blue lines, Private Ben Dansen. Picking him up en route from Geneva, Switzerland, the sniper had been unusually quiet for a Helljumper. Keeping to himself and saying little, it made him wonder what was going on inside his head. Was he thinking of his unit? A girl? Family?

He decided that as long as Dansen fought and followed orders, he could live with the mystery. Mitch got up and surveyed the hologram readout of Sydney. Their landing zone was on the outskirts of the city, away from the thick of red motes of light signifying enemy patrols and worse, Wraith assault tanks. Yes sir, a bad day indeed.

Operation: DIVINE SON

2000 Hours, October 23rd 2552 (Military Calender)/ South of Thebes, Greece, Hellenic Republic

Slowly, the lone marine crawled up an embankment formed of rubble from a collapsed building. Pushing the battle rifle in front of him, he used its scope to get a better view of the area where an energy blast had enveloped everything only a few hours ago. It still didn’t increase his range of vision much, but a Covenant Scarab was not easy to miss. Far in the distance, it was making long strides on its way to investigate the blast zone.

“What is it?” asked a hushed but excited voice next to him.

“Excavation walker. They don’t typically show up on battlefields, only when they know they want something. . . which naturally means they want something here.” Moses Wheatley scratched at the stubble on his chin. Usually he’d keep cleanly shaved, but he’d been out here for four days without a razor. Sliding back, he slung his rifle and hit the sidewalk. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Next to him was a boy no older than ten, keeping quiet but having fun pretending to be this soldier’s comrade. He was right on Moses’ heels, looking this way and that to look for Jackal snipers or Elite swordsmen.

These streets were long since abandoned by its citizens, and with a lack of military interest had become dead silent. Enemy artillery crews had shelled it for good measure, but then passed on. It was a small urbanized area south of Thebes, populated mostly by farmers who worked the surrounding land, and businesses that had set up to supply them. All of that was gone, now, no one even to tell Moses what its name was.

Turning a street corner, the pair slid down into a hole created by Covenant mortar fire, leading into the building’s basement. A girl in her mid teens looked up, alarmed, but settled when she recognized them.

Wheatley breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t been discovered.

Setting down his rifle and helmet, he looked around for where he’d set his pack and the food in it as the boy whispered excitedly in French-accented English, “Reo! We saw them! They’re huge and ugly and everywhere!”

Wheatley interrupted him before he caused any alarm. “You saw nothing of the kind, Henri. It’s just one big one, far off, and headed farther.”

Reo relaxed noticeably. In comparison, the London girl was far wiser for not wanting to encounter the aliens. Staff Sergeant Moses Wheatley had survived enough battles between the Covenant and UNSC to know a human could barely match even a Jackal without military training and a strong build, but Henri was still excited. Just as he was about to start again, Wheatley ran over and cupped a hand over his mouth.

Sure enough, the sound of a wing of Banshees passed overhead, a howl preceding the hum of their engines as they actually passed over. The three of them waited a long time before he was sure they were gone, and released Henri’s mouth.

Once loose of his grip, Henri discreetly made a beeline for the pack with the food, and hugged a coat tighter and asked, “Do we have a plan or not?”

Moses sat against a pillar opposite the one she had her back to. “They’re stepping up air patrols to look for enemies. From what I know, that’ll mean they’ve concentrated at least part of their ground force in defense of the excavation equipment. They’re homing in on something. . . anyway, we aren’t leaving town any time soon. Air would spot us and hunt us down. Better to stay put for now.”

She more or less acknowledged it, and looked down to her Chatter. Wheatley watched the two of them with his placid, brown eyes and thought back to the two, scared children he’d found alone in the outskirts of Thebes. They didn’t have the money for a ticket off-world, the starliners were charging people lifetime savings for a chance to escape. And they couldn’t go aboard his Pelican, not where it was going. That place was far worse.

Telling Ensign Gossard he was leaving, Wheatley had watched Bravo 029 fly up to meet the UNSC Themistocles and take Spartans into the middle of Japan. But that was their problem now, not his. He had to keep these kids alive, even if no one else would help him. He needed to get them out of harms way. And just maybe he’d be lucky enough to get out, too.

That Damn Sniper, sniping

5
Operation: ETERNAL SPIRIT

958 Hours, October 24th 2552 (Military Calendar)/  Tigershark-class Ballistic Missile Submarine UNSC Seawolf, Southeast of Tokyo, Japan

Isn't Irony Great:

"Now hear this!", Captain Takashi Yanagi spoke into the intercom of the UNSC Seawolf, "Two Covenant destroyers and two corvettes have slipped past what's left of the orbital defense grid. The vessels are currently slightly outside Earth Orbit, on a projected course that will take them over the East China sea, to Nagasaki. We have been given authorization to deploy nuclear weapons."

"Coordinates downloaded sir", A Lieutenant seated in front of a console to Yanagi's right said.

Yanagi glanced at the screen. They had three satellites and four ground sensors tracking the alien spacecraft, they were locked on.

"Prepare silo one for launch", Yanagi said into the intercom. Silo one contained a SHIVA nuclear missile armed with an eight-warhead MITV. Two warheads would slam directly into each vessel, the first would disable the energy shielding, the second, would destroy the ship.

"Silo prepared, ready to launch on your command.", the silo crews responded.

Yanagi typed a series of launch codes into the sub's central computer. A message flashed across the screen in large letters: INSERT KEYS TO INITIATE FINAL LAUNCH PROCEDURE.

"Yanagi took a key off a keyring on his belt and inserted it into a keyhole below the main control console, as the sub's second-in-command, a Lieutenant Commander Karlsson, inserted the second key at the same time, Yanagi and Karlsson turned the keys.

The SHIVA missile shot out of the launch tube. As the missile broke the surface, the first stage fired, propelling upwards as the second and then the third stage fired, launching the missile into low orbit within minutes.

It was only a few minutes after the missile escaped Earth orbit that it shed it's outer skin, releasing eight nuclear warheads. The warheads split into four groups of two.

Seconds later, the warheads impacted their targets at over fifteen times the speed of sound. The warheads impacted, the EMP blast of the first disabling the vessel's shields, before the second warhead exploded, annihilating the alien craft in a ball of flames. All four spacecraft were wiped out, creating a debris field of thousands of flaming pieces of twisted metal.

"Orbital defense stations have confirmed the destruction of all four Covenant spacecraft.", Yanagi announced as soon as he recieved the report.

Cheers erupted throughout the submarine. A vessel of the "wet navy" had just taken out four enemy spaceborne warships. Yanagi, however, thought of the irony of the city. The city of Nagasaki had been saved by a nuclear warhead, the very weapon that had annihilated it centuries earlier.... or, perhaps saved wasn't the right word. There were still plenty more Covenant left.

6
Operation: ETERNAL SPIRIT

0721 hours, October 24th, 2552 (Military Calendar) North of Tokyo, Japan, small village

Eric-G272 and Jared-097 crept along the outer edges of the small village, feet crushing to pulps fruit that had dropped from trees. Eric held out a fist, signaling for Jared to stop. Eric was the only survivor of ONI Recon 173, a specialized ONI reconnaissance-and-scouting group that had been sent to investigate the Covenant presence in Tokyo. Jared-097 was the sole survivor of the SPARTAN-II Gold Team.

They had been forced to flee the actual city to a small village in the middle of nowhere. Eric dropped to one knee and held his MA5K carbine at the ready. The broken bamboo fences of the village collapsed, and the crisp crunching of what sounded like leaves rang through Eric's ears. With a silence that personalized SPARTAN-IIIs, Eric crawled forward. Two Brutes stepped out. One of them had a Brute Shot, a grenade launcher. The other held a red plasma rifle but had a large hammer slung to his back.

Eric held up three fingers with his left hand, signaling a countdown. Two fingers. One. The two Spartans opened fire, and the Brutes growled in surprise. The one holding the grenade launcher fired while moving back, while the other roared in fury and charged. The golden-helmeted one swung his hammer, draining Eric's MJOLNIR armor to one-quarter. Eric unloaded his MA5K's magazine into the Chieftain, who stopped, as if stunned.

Jared fired his MA5K carbine in bursts, the 7.62mm sparking against the Brute Chieftain's shields. The Brute's helmet flew off, and then it charged full-fury at the two Spartans. Eric pressed himself against a wall, while Jared steadily moved back, firing his rifle, then reloading. Finally, under combined fire, the Chieftain fell. The other Brute, a Major was nowhere to be seen. Jared took off his helmet and said, "We have to fall back, Eric." Eric leaned forward and crouched.

Finally, after long moments of hesitation, he shrugged and said, "Agreed."

1001 hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar) In Tokyo, Japan

Dropping from a low rooftop, Eric quietly scouted. He turned on night vision and scanned the dark alleyway. A family of cats sat in the background. Jared saw a green acknowledgement light on his heads-up display wink, and he jumped down. They moved forward until they were almost out of the alleyway. "SHIT!" A marine rushed past the opening of the alleyway, followed in haste by the rest of his team.

Eric peeked out, and realized why. Six Wraith tanks sat near a Japanese restaurant, and two Shade emplacements sat plumply on either side of the restaurant entrance/exit. "Spartans, we could use some help," a gruff voice said through the COM channel to Jared and Eric.

Eric felt one of the Wraiths fire a plasma mortar. The impact shook the building, rattled his teeth, and drained one-third of his shields. "Who is this?"

"Lieutenant Grade One Jacob Avanlor, commanding ODST Shock Trooper Squad Number 44."

"Alright, sir."

"I've highlighted our position. We should be ten or fifteen kilometers from your position, near the ONI Takishi Base." Through the COM channel, heavy explosions and loud screaming could be heard. "Make it quick, Spartans. We're about to be overrun. Spartans, be advised - " Like a hiss of a nest of hornets, the COM went dead, and the voice went with it.

Eric headed toward the Lieutenant's position. Jared followed in hot pursuit, as they moved stealthily.

1415 hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar) Near ONI Takishi Base, Tokyo, Japan

The Spartan pair wriggled past mobs of screaming Japanese civilians. UNSC Pelicans and out-of-date Chinese Fengying trucks rumbled into the small area. Smoking remains of Shade plasma turrets, Covenant Hunters, Brutes, Jackals, Grunts, Wraiths, Scorpions, and Warthogs were littered all across the small residential neighborhood. UNSC troops got out of the Fengyings and Pelicans and unloaded CA5Ks, the Chinese-Japanese version of the MA5K carbines.

Jared edged past a group of UNSC marine medics carrying a screaming, half-burnt man away into a Fengying military truck. Eric uploaded a newer updated TACMAP version onto Jared's HUD. "TACMAP's new highlighted checkpoint is gone. That either means we've lost connection with the el-tee or he's dead."

Jared shrugged. "Either way, we're not going there anymore. These people here need our help. I wouldn't go anyway. Besides, that ONI base is probably smoking ashes right now." He chuckled lightly.

7
'''Operation: ETERNAL SPIRIT

1150 hours, October 24th, 2552 (Military Calendar) Setagaya, Japan, East of Tokyo.

Fatal Wreck on the Great Journey:

Mikiya Ryougi flew his AH-144 Falcon Gunship at rooftop level through Setagaya, Japan, weaving between the burning ruins of what were once apartments, businesses, and other structures. The streets in between the building were filled with bodies and destroyed vehicles. Most of the bodies and vehicles were human. The Covenant had shown no mercy, killing anyone that encountered, military or civilian. The streets literally ran red with blood.

"Any signs of life?", Ryougi asked his co-pilot and gunner, Aoi Miyazaki.

"Nothing...", Aoi replied, "Wait a second, Two Spectres and a Shadow, over there, in front of that apartment building. I have four Sangheili and several Unggoy exiting the vehicles"

"Probably a Covenant death squad, sent to take out any surviving civilians. Smoke 'em.", Mikiya replied.

Aoi turned the Falcon's 30mm cannon on the Covenant squad and squeezed the trigger. The chain gun roared to life, sending a hail of high explosive and armor piercing shells at the aliens. The Covenant soldiers were blown into bloody chunks of flesh as their vehicles exploded into balls of blue flames.

"All hostiles eliminated", Aoi said, "Continuing scan for hostile forces."

Mikiya flew the aircraft further along the street, until he reached the burning ruins of what looked like a school.

"Spectre parked in front of that school", Aoi said, multiple corpses in a row along the track, looks like they were... beheaded and....", she continued, "Four Elites, all with energy swords, headed towards something in the field looks like two adolescents, attempting to jump the fence. I'm engaging."

Aoi pulled the trigger and fired short burst of 30mm shells, chewing two of the Elites to bloody chunks of flesh. The other two drew their plasma rifles and turned their weapons skyward. Aoi, however, was too quick for them, both Elites were blown apart by a second burst.

"UNSC Command, This is Hayabusa", Ryougi said into the radio, "I have sighted two civilian survivors in Setagaya, near the Tomei Expressway. Requesting evac."

"That's a negative, Hayabusa", the UNSC soldier on the other side of the radio said, "All our evac birds have been given priority tasks."

"Did HQ just tell us those survivors can go fuck themselves", Aoi asked.

"Unfortunately, Lt. Miyazaki, they did"., Ryougi said.

Mikiya looked down at the two survivors, who had now picked up the plasma rifles and energy swords from the dead elites.

"Good luck, you two", Mikiya said, though he knew the two on the ground couldn't hear him, and in any case, were probably still fated to die even with all the luck in the world.

"Three Banshees and a Vampire over the Tomei Expressway", Aoi said, "Massive Covenant armored column below them, they haven't spotted us yet".

"Keep that cannon ready", Mikiya replied, "I've got a solid lock on that Vampire, I'm engaging."

Mikiya pressed the button on top of his flight stick twice. Two Argent missiles flew at the Vampire. The missiles exploded in a flash of fire as they impacted the alien craft's engines. The Covenant aircraft's tail was blown off as the front half crashed to the ground on the expressway, its burning remains crushing two Shadows, a Wraith, and numerous Ghosts and Spectres.

The three Banshees broke off, flying straight for Ryougi's Falcon. Mikiya fired two more missiles, knocking two of the Banshees out of the sky. The third one, however, made it too close to safely engage with missiles. Mikiya swerved the tiltrotor to the right just in time to avoid a burst from its plasma cannons.

Mikiya then made a quick 180 degree turn, facing himself to the rear of the Banshee.

Aoi Miyazaki squeezed the trigger, sending a burst of cannon shells into the rear of the Banshee, setting fire to the tail and sending it crashing into a nearby building.

"Nice shooting", Mikiya Ryougi said, "Now, let's mop up the rest of them".

Mikiya turned the VTOL towards the Tomei Expressway. The column of Covenant Wraiths and other vehicles on the expressway was halted by the remains of Vampire Mikiya downed earlier.

Mikiya circled around the column, avoiding plasma fire as Aoi locked on the first Wraith with the aircraft's laser and fired a Scorpion anti-tank missile. The missile impacted the tank, sending it up in ball of fire. Miyazaki repeated the performance seven more times, taking out six Wraiths and a Shadow. Mikiya then fired the aircraft's LAU-65 dual purpose missiles, at a Wraith and several Shadows and Revenants as Aoi finished off the light vehicles with the cannon. Within less than a minute, the entire column was burning.

8
Operation: DIVINE SON

0815 Hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Thessaly, Continental Greece, Hellenic Republic

While the forces at Olympus Base prepared to move out into hostile territory, forces already behind enemy lines prepared a little operation of their own. Two companies of paratroopers were spread across Thessaly, the survivors of a hastily-planned and poorly-executed strike in an attempt to quickly dislodge the Covenant from northern Greece. They had gone in in Warthogs and overland, instead of the parachute jump or orbital drop they excelled in, and the whole operation had failed hideously. The men of 2nd Battalion, The Parachute Regiment had regrouped quickly, however, and were still prepared to stir up a little trouble.

Lieutenant Colonel John Churchill, 2 PARA Officer Commanding, had been told to hunker down out of sight if the operation went pear-shaped, yet his declaration to his surviving headquarters that he would "rather fight than eat" left no one in any doubt that that course of action had been abandoned. Churchill relished the challenge of combat, even more so when he was surrounded, and he was determined to do as much as he could to make the job of the relief forces easier.

Which is why we're up here now, thought Corporal Nathan Morrison. The men of the Combined Anti-Armour Platoon of 2 PARA's weapons company lay atop a low hill, their Warthogs idling under camouflage netting behind them. Five klicks away lay an abandoned UNSC airfield, which the Covenant were rapidly converting to their own standards. Any enemy air support would make the UNSC's job harder.

Two Wraith tanks and three Revenants sat defending the Grunt labourers and their Elite supervisors. Morrison also estimated about thirty infantrymen present. However, they were looking in completely the wrong direction: The Covenant troops obviously thought that the whole of Greece was clear, and expected an assault only from the north. So, the CAAT platoon would come in from the east, with the rising sun behind them. It was also twilight, the most difficult time for a Human to see, since the eye could not compensate for both the bright sky and dark ground. They could only assume the same was true for Covies.

"Okay, gentlemen, let's go!" hissed Second Lieutenant Jordan O'Brien. He leapt up and ran down to his M12 LRV. Morrison exchanged glances with a squadmate and shook his head. ''You keep low when cresting a hill! Especially if the sun's behind you! Cheers for nearly blowing the whole thing off!'' Morrison and the rest of the team slowly clambered back down into their Warthogs. Morrison took his place in the passenger seat, while Private Storey, a rookie who still looked shocked after his first taste of combat, manned the M52 missile turret.

The platoon's eight vehicles leapt forwards, with the LRVs leading the way. Cresting the hill, the CAAT platoon roared towards the airfield, adrenaline firing through the men's veins. Morrison leaned forward slightly and tightened his grip on his new MA5C.

At one-point-eight kilometres distant, the platoon's M12 LRVs opened fire with their chain guns. Grunts dived for cover, but the Elites roared and stood up, firing their plasma rifles. They didn't stand a chance at making any hits at this range, but the sight was enough to set Storey's arms shaking and his eyes to screw closed.

The platoon wasn't interested in them, though. They were more interested in the Wraith crews, who had leapt into their tanks at the first sign of gunfire, and had sealed the hatches. O'Brien gave the signal, and two 102mm anti-tank missiles roared from each M12A1 LAAV. The sound of firing knocked Storey awake, and he fired his own missiles. Eight tandem charge HEAT warheads crashed down on the Covenant vehicles. The Wraiths and Revenants were blasted to pieces as the massive overpressure generated by the explosions searched for ways to escape the sealed vehicles. Covenant troops were ripped apart by the flying debris.

"2 PARA Actual, this is Delta-Four-Actual, you are clear to engage, over!" snapped O'Brien.

"Roger that, we're inbound, out!" John Churchill replied. He lowered his radio and slapped his driver on the back. The Warthogs of Bravo Company and 2 PARA's surviving headquarters raced towards the airfield from the west, covered by a barrage of rockets from the M12R MLRSs behind them. Churchill's vehicle led the way, a massive British flag flying from its radio antenna. The Covenant didn't stand a chance.

The CAAT platoon arrived first. Morrison's fireteam heartily congratulated each other while O'Brien leapt out of his vehicle.

"What the fuck's he doing?" demanded Private Welch.

"He's got his fuckin' bayonet out," groaned Morrison.

"Can you believe that retard is in charge of people?" laughed Private Stanley from the rear flat-bed.

O'Brien fired his MA5C wildly into the Covenant corpses. He roared, charged up to an Elite's corpse, and rammed his bayonet clean through its head. He kicked it savagely. "Yeah! Take that you Covie fuck! Bet you wish you hadn't fucked with us now, huh?" He spat on to it before turning to fire on a pile of dead Grunts.

"Christ, can't he just leave it?" snarled Stanley. O'Brien finished his vengeance-fest and ran over to PFC Black's vehicle. He pointed at a structure in the distance. "Engage that building!"

"Sir, that's over three thousand metres away," said Private Morton. "Range of my .50 is eighteen hundred."

"Move into position! Engage, engage!"

Morton sighed and squinted at the structure through his M52's sight. It was a shattered, burnt-out fuel tank. He couldn't see anyone. "Shall I light it up?"

"No," groaned Black. "That's not a target, it's a wreck!"

The Warthog's from Bravo Company roared to a halt on the airfield. Churchill leapt out of his and stalked towards O'Brien. Churchill was something of legend in the Army, having proven his mettle in the Insurrection and later charging into battle on Harvest with a longbow and a claymore. He carried both of those on his back and at his side now. Despite his aggressive approach to every situation, no one in the battalion had ever heard a bad word come from Churchill's mouth, but it looked like he was having difficulty retraining himself. "Oh, here it comes," said Welch, grinning.

"Lieutenant, what in God's name are you doing?!" stormed Churchill.

"Uh, ensuring the airfield is clear, sir!" stammered O'Brien.

"We don't have the supplies for bursts like that! I want proper fire discipline at all times! Now, get your men organised. I want an ammo count and the Warthogs in a defensive perimeter. Officers and NCOs, prepared for a briefing in twenty minutes. We're digging in."

"Sir? We're not pulling back?" Everyone had thought this would just be a hit-and-run.

"And cede a perfectly good airfield?" demanded Churchill, apparently amazed at the suggestion. "Lieutenant, we shall hold this position until we are relieved. Besides, we're surrounded. Where would we go?"

The All-knowing Sith&#39;ari

9
Battle of Boston (Sgt. Maj. Lindsey Williamson subplot)

0500 Hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar) Behind Covenant Lines, Near Interstate 93, Boston, MA, USA

Highway to Hell:

Two Scarabs climbed over the ruins of building, towards of Interstate 93, exactly at the point where it descended from an overpass and entered a tunnel under the Financial District. But these Scarabs were no longer under the control of Covenant. They were instead crewed by a squad of UNSC ODSTs lead by Master Sergeant Lindsey Williamson.

"Looks like we're just in time for the party", Lindsey said into her radio, "I spot a massive Covenant convoy, looks like 100-plus vehicles, mostly Wraiths and Shadows. You know to do."

Lindsey stopped the Scarab and placed the crosshair on the Scarab's HUD over the lead Wraith and squeezed the trigger. A stream of plasma, burning through the armor of the Wraith and sending it up in a ball of flames. Lindsey swept the Scarab's plasma beam up and down the road, as the ODST operating the other Scarab did the same.

The two plasma beams swept up and down the highway, reducing Wraiths and Shadows to twisted masses of half-molten metal, blowing apart the overpass the the south, and even glassing roughly two-meter-wide strips of ground. The AA gunners of the two Scarabs turned the secondary guns on the highway as well, blowing apart any vehicles that escaped the fury of the plasma stream. Within seconds, the entire armored column was incinerated.

"Feel nice to be driving one of these things instead of facing one!", Roycewicz, the driver of the second Scarab said.

Suddenly, a plasma torpedo flew over the top of Williamson's Scarab.

"Looks like it's not over yet!", Lindsey said, "Covenant Frigate hovering over the harbor has got us in its sights"

"Great!", Corporal Dunn yelled, "What the fuck are we gonna do now!?"

"Calm down, soldier", Lindsey said, "Roycewicz, I need you to target that nose of that vessel, but don't fire yet! Wait until it starts charging another plasma torpedo, there should be a gap in the shielding as it prepares to fire. That's when we'll hit it."

No sooner than Lindsey spoke, the Frigate began to fire a second plasma torpedo. Lindsey and Roycewicz both turned their respective walker's main gun on the ship's nose plasma torpedo tube.

"NOW!", Lindsey yelled as she pulled the trigger. A beam of superheated plasma flew out from each of the two Scarab's guns. Both plasma beams impacted the nose of the craft, directing in the gap created by the plasma torpedo launch. The beams shot right up the tube, detonating the plasma torpedo in a massive ball of blue flames, engulfing the entire nose of the craft in the explosion. The burning remains of the vessel fell to the harbor and sank beneath the waves.

"We've stolen two Scarabs, taken out a massive Covenant armored force, and destroyed a frigate, and the day's just getting started", Lindsey commented, "If everyone fights this hard, we might yet drive the Covies off Earth and win this goddamn war!"

10
HOLY FATHER

"Years ago, I told my father it was 'just dirt.' But it's not just dirt. It's where we live. It's our dirt, dammit. And more importantly, it's about who's standing on that dirt. Those children. Your family. Your friends. And those freaks are going to pay for every piece of dirt they've taken from us."

- Gage Yevgenny

"Semper Fi 'til I die!"

"Oohrah!"

"Helljumpers!Let's take back this fuckin' island!"

James's pod lurched down and that feeling began. Before, on his 2nd drop it had filled him with blood-lust and anger (On his first drop he vomited). Now it was just that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. A mix of the negative g's, fear, anger, hate, pride, and apprehension.

"Yeehaw!" an ODST cried.

They were Task Force Oscar. A hand selected team of veteran ODSTs, forward observers, promising Marines and the like. He was Colonel James Alexander Perez. ODST and commander of the Task Force.

Sydney, Australia

Captain Mikael Housten

"Affirmative, Charlie armor! Large blue oval hospital!"

"Confirmed Joker 1 Actual, shells on target. Bravo 4 out."

Mikael ducked down behind the rubble as a 455mm shell slammed into the ground near a wraith, knocking it aside like a toy. Grunts went flying as Ghosts exploded.

"Good hit Bravo 4, Joker 1 out."

Bobzombie

11
Operation: HOLY FATHER

0053 Hours, October 24th 2552 (Military Calendar)/  PLACE, Sydney, Australia,

The ODSTs had made landfall.

With the main part of Task Force Oscar landed and beginning to press into the city, Corporal Hunter had been put in charge of the reserve squad, made up mostly of troopers orphaned from other units. It was his responsibility to look after the steady stream of civilians leaving the city through the area and keep them moving. Currently, he was having trouble with a man who’d begun selling food from a van, which was cutting off the flow of refugees.

This was complicated by the fact that the man didn’t speak English, and Mitch knew only English.

“No, you can’t sell here.” He said, emphasizing the syllables. “You need to move.”

The man talked at the same time he did, neither comprehending the other. Mitch looked around for some assistance, but Kevlar was out of earshot over the crowd, trying to chase down a pair of children who had his canteen. “Dansen?” he asked.

The blue-suited kid looked up, his helmet off. He was in the middle of eating something he’d bought from the vender.

“Good fraggin’ grief.” Mitch muttered to himself. If this guy wouldn’t move his truck, Mitch was gonna do it for him. He was brushing him aside and making for the vehicle’s driver-side door when an all too familiar sound made him wheel around.

“Contacts! Contacts!” A marine was screaming over the com. Turning up the street, Mitch could see Lance Corporal Ramos standing out in the open, firing his MA5 from his waist. A stream of blue light flew from around a corner, narrowly missing the marine.

“Fall back!” Mitch called, but the Lance Corporal was already doing so. A Wraith tank came into Mitch’s view around the corner, the secondary gun spraying plasma. Ramos was cut down by a burst into his side.

As the crowd ran past and around him, Mitchell pressed through until he was safely in an alleyway. Three of the dozen ODSTs under his command were there, two from Oscar and one from another unit. “Get me a radio patch over TACCOM, we’re going to need reinforcement,” he ordered. As they did, Mitch checked the squad’s bio signatures.

Ramos was alive, but he wouldn’t be for much longer if they couldn’t get to him. Mitch heard rifle shots behind him, and saw that the other troopers were taking cover behind the vender’s truck and in an alley across the street. Dansen was firing sniper rounds into a lance of advancing infantry as the rest got in position.

Mitch had to weigh his options. Oscar’s main force would be otherwise engaged, and have no one to spare to help them counter the Covenant flanking maneuver. Maybe artillery support, but they’d have to be damn good shots at this range.

Well. . . there was always hoping for a miracle.

Operation: DIVINE SON

0203 Hours, October 24th 2552 (Military Calender)/ Village south of Thebes, Greece, Hellenic Republic

Moses Wheatley had figured out the new pattern of Banshee patrols passing overhead. The last one had caught him by surprise, usually they were on a four-hour interval. It had been halved, leaving him two-hour periods to scavenge materials and food.

Having already stocked up on the latter, needing it after Henri ate all of what they had and given himself a stomachache, Wheatley wandered through where a battle between marines and Covenant infantry had taken place.

Scorched earth cracked under his boots, the smell of brimstone heavy in the air. The coppery scent of blood was also present. Passing by the scorched bodies, he climbed up into a burned out Scorpion tank to see if there were any salvageable parts.

It had been hit dead center by a plasma mortar. Any of the more delicate or expensive parts had been slagged, even the machine gun was melted beyond use. Pulling a protein bar from the pack, Wheatley pulled himself up to the top of the cannon mount for a place to sit.

And that was when he spotted the cable winding out from behind a lonely portion of still-standing concrete. On the end of it was a very distinct hook that he remembered from a long time ago, but could hardly believe it was what he thought.

All the same, he ditched the pack and ran over to it, rounding the screen and sighting the vehicle.

It was at once the most ugly and most beautiful piece of machinery any man had laid eyes on. Rust had corroded holes through the armor plating, and its wheels were uneven on the independent axles. Still, there was no disguising the outline of an M12 Warthog LRV.

The rim in the back of the flatbed over the rear bumper had been cut out by Wheatley himself, nearly thirty, thirty-five years ago. The space in which a 50 caliber machine gun would normally be mounted was filled by a huge boom arm, with a mechanized winch. When Wheatley began his service, still in the Insurrection era, IEDs were responsible for many vehicles going offline. The Boar had been fitted as a tow truck for his unit of combat engineers.

And now, if it worked, he had a way to get himself mobile.

Moses headed to drop off the food and get his tools. This would take no small amount of work, but would be well worth the time.

That Damn Sniper, sniping

12
Operation: ETERNAL SPIRIT

1150 hours, October 25th, 2552 (Military Calendar), Off the coast of Shimoda, Izu Peninsula, Japan.

Sinking Feeling:

Mikiya Ryougi flew his AV-144 over the vast blue expanse off the coast of Shimoda, leading four others. They had been at it for hours, and hadn't found anything. The squadron was sent to the area to investigate rumors of Jiralhanae and Kig-Yar modifying civilian "wet" cargo ships with large deck-mounted heavy plasma mortars that apparently were responsible for attacking UNSC positions on the coast and on the islands of Oshima, Niijima, and the other islands off the southern coast of Honshu, directly south of Tokyo.

Suddenly, Ryougi's radio crackled to life. "Hayabusa lead, this is Hayabusa three, I see two civilian cargo vessels and about a dozen small aircraft and two larger aircraft about half-way between the Izu Peninsula. IFF has identified the vessels as the Kotori Maru and the Hadzuki Maru."

Ryougi switched frequency on his radio to that used by civilian vessels. "Kotori Maru, this is Hayabusa leader of the UNSC air force. Respond immediately."

Ryougi heard Jiralhanae speech on the other end, before the alien language abruptly changed to the a pre-recorded message: "Your destruction is the will of the gods and I am their instrument." As the recording played, the Covenant aircraft turned towards Ryougi's squadron.

The aircraft drew closer, to the point where Ryougi could identify them as twelve Banshees and two Phantoms. Suddenly, streaks of blue fire flew at Ryougi and the rest of the Hayabusa squadron.

"Enemy Phantom Gunships have launched plasma torpedoes, evasive manuevers!"

A pair of plasma torpedoes closed in on Ryougi's Falcon from both directions. At the last minute, Ryougi pulled up the stick. The Falcon shot upwards as the two torpedoes' lock broke. The plasma torpedoes continued on their path, colliding with each other and exploding in ball of blue fire below him.

"Nice dodge, sir", Ryougi's gunner and co-pilot, Aoi Miyazaki said.

Ryougi tilted the rotors of the Falcon all the way forward, placing the aircraft into "plane mode", pulling up on the throttle as he flew the aircraft upwards above the Phantom's line of fire. Ryougi flipped the arming switch for his Argent air-to-air missiles as he flew back downward, towards the Phantom gunship's unprotected top side. Ryougi pressed the firing button on top of his flight stick.

Two Argent air-to-air missiles streaked towards the Phantom, impacting the upper rear section. Both the Phantom's engine's were blown off, the plasma stores erupting in blue flames. The rear of the aircraft was vaporized as the flaming remnants of the cockpit crashed into the sea.

Ryougi leveled off in the aircraft, only to see he was flying straight at the nose of the second Phantom. Ryougi and Sangheili both fired their weapons at the same time. It felt as though everything was moving in slow motion as an Argent missile flew at the Phantom's cockpit at the exact same time as plasma torpedo flew at Ryougi.

Ryougi again pulled up on the stick, dodging the plasma torpedo. The Phantom pilot, however, was not so lucky. Ryougi's missile impacted the cockpit, blowing both the nose of the aircraft and the pilot to pieces as the Phantom went down in flames.

"Scratch two Phantoms", Ryougi said. Ryougi was interupted, however, by a burst of plasma fire coming in from behind. Having been concentrating wholeheartedly on destroying the Phantom, he had not noticed a pair of Banshees come up behind him. Ryougi tried to shake them, but they kept up with his every move.

"This is Hayabusa lead, I've got a couple of Banshees on my tail!", Ryougi shouted into his radio.

Suddenly, Ryougi saw flash of fire come in from behind. An Argent missile impacted the first Banshee. Seconds later, a SPARTAN Laser burned through the body of the second banshee.

Seconds later, a second Falcon flew by, the nose decorated with the image an anime girl wearing clothing exactly the same olive drab color as a Falcon aircraft, and a helmet shaped similarly to a Falcon's cockpit, and wearing a backpack with two rotors sticking out the top. Ryougi recognised this anthropomorphism of his aircraft, which the squadron referred to as "Hayabusa-tan" as the nose art of one 2nd Lt. Satou.

"Thanks for the assist, Satou, looks like the beer's on me tonight", Ryougi responded as he turned towards the last four remaining Banshees.

Ryougi shot down two of the Banshees with Argent missiles, before moving closer so Aoi Miyazaki could finish off the last two with her cannon.

"The Banshees are down", Ryougi said, "All aircraft report".

"This is Hayabusa two, Okay here"

"Three here, no damage"

"Hayabusa four here, a few minor plasma hits, nothing that's gonna stop me from flying."

"Hayabusa five, I'm fine here".

"All right then, let's take care of those Covie warships before they get into Tokyo Bay."

Mikiya Ryougi and the rest of the 24th Attack VTOL Squadron flew in closer to the Kotori Maru and the Hadzuki Maru. From the closer vantage point, they could see clear signs of Jiralhanae modification, most notably as super heavy plasma mortar mounted on the bow, along with a battery of AA Shade plasma turrets and spiker autocannons on the sides, stern and bridge, large metal spikes guarding the sides from boarding, and fuel rod AA turret from an AA Wraith on the stern.

Ryougi turned his aircraft to the stern AA battery on the Hadzuki Maru. "All Aircraft", Ryougi said, "I am going to knock out the main AA battery on the stern of the Hadzuki Maru. Hayabusa Two, take out the AA battery with on the stern of Kotori."

"Roger", Lt. Satou replied as he pointed his aircraft's SPARTAN Laser at he Kotori's AA battery."

Ryougi's gunner, Aoi Miyazaki locked onto the AA battery the Covenant had placed on the stern of cargo ship and squeezed the trigger. A Scorpion guided missile streaked towards the fuel rod autocannon, destroying it in a ball of flames. At the same time, Lt. Satou's gunner fired his nose-mounted SPARTAN Laser at the Kotori Maru's AA battery, taking it out as well.

After the main guns had falled, Hayabusa Three and Four moved on the Hadzuki Maru, Three launching a swarm of ANVIL missiles that set fire to the bridge as Four took out the main plasma battery with a single Scorpion missile.

"I see a couple of large plasma storage tanks on the deck near the destroyed main gun", Aoi Miyazaki said.

"Do it", Ryougi said simply.

Aoi Miyazaki launched two Scorpion missiles as the plasma storage tanks. The plasma stores exploded in massive ball of blue flames that blew the bow clean off the vessel. The rest of the Hadzuki Maru took on water through the gaping hole and sank beneath the waves, taking it's Covenant captors along with it.

"The Hadzuki Maru is sinking", Ryougi said, "Focus fire on the Kotori Maru. Be advised the the Bravo Kilos have placed large tanks of plasma near the main armament. Concentrate fire on those".

A swarm of missiles flew from all five of the Falcons of 24th squadron, slamming into the Kotori Maru, setting detonating the plasma stores and blowing hole its unarmored hull. The second Covenant-controlled cargo ship took on water and capsized before it joined the Hadzuki Maru in its watery grave.

Cheers erupted through the radio as Covenant-controlled ship went down. The pilot's celebrations were quickly stifled, however.

"Looks like the Covies captured another ship, this one's huge", Hayabusa three said, "I have visual on what looks like a heavy cargo ship or maybe a tanker, with some sort of flight deck attached to the top. Large numbers of aircraft flying around and off it, IFF reads them as Vampires, Phantoms, Spirits, and Banshees.Looks like they've been getting ideas from what the wet Navy's been doing with cargo ships and troop transports, equipping them with flight decks."

"But how are they fitting that many aircraft on board?", Satou asked.

"Probably using the hold as a hanger you could fit hundreds of Banshees in there, and the onboard crane as an elevator. Damn apes and space chickens are more resourceful then we though", Ryougi replied.

"This is Hayabusa leader to any UNSC forces", Ryougi stated, "We have encountered a large cargo vessel that has been captured by the Covenant, escorted by a large number of aircraft. We believe the vessel to have been converted into a "wet" carrier."

"This Thunderbolt lead of VF-43, Skyhawk squadron from the carrier UNSC Samar Sea", we are aware of the Covie improvised carrier and have been deployed to take her out. You boys just sit back and enjoy the show."

Dozens of Skyhawks and UCAVs flew over Ryougi's head. When the fighters, got within range, they released a swarm of ASGM-10 and Medusa air-to-air missiles. Explosions flashed across the skies as the missiles hit their mark. Moments later, multicolored fireballs, both orange and the light blue of plasma blasts erupted from the enemy wet vessel.

"This Thunderbolt lead reporting the Covenant "wet" vessel destroyed.", came over the radio.

"All right, Hayabusa", Ryougi said, "Mission accomplished, good work, lets get back to base".

13
Operation: HOLY FATHER

0059 Hours, October 23rd, 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Liverpool, Sydney, United Australian Federation.

"All clear." Stanley whispered as he peered down the street. He motioned with his hand, then he moved down the road, assault rifle in hand. His squad slowly moved after him. No cloaked elites suddenly decloaked and killed them, no jackass snipers blew out their brains and no elite jumped out of an alley and speared them with an energy sword.

They would live just a little longer.

"You know, what's the point in saying "clear" anyways?" Corporal Jonathan "Flint" Flynn demanded. "A much quicker way to tell is simply looking if you're pointman's alive or not."

"That's a cheery thought." Private Qing Mei Ri, better known to her squadmates as "Jade", and newest member to the squad, and one of the newest members to the ODSTs in general replied.

"Get used to it, rookie." Flint replied.

"Hey, lay off her." Private First Class Nikolai "Bear" Lekov retorted, while placing his sniper rifle onto the magnetic straps on the back of his BDU.

"Ooohhh, does the big, bad, bear have a crush on-" Flint began, only to be cut off.

"Shut up Flint. Leave the immaturity for a time when we aren't in a covenant-infested city." Stanley said, annoyed.

"Yes general." Flint replied, inviting a snicker from their squad's final member, Private Peter White, and also new to the squad-although Stanley knew him from before, as they were in the same platoon.

"Let's get a move on." Stanley growled. He moved down the road, checking the alleys and windows of the buildings for good measure. The squad fell into formmation behind him. He turned down a street, where there was the omnious shape of a pair of Hunters.

"Shit." He hissed. "Hunters." Neither Hunter had noticed them yet, thank god-but that was most likely going to change very soon. He edged back, and gestured at Peter and Bear. Peter aimed his rocket launcher at a hunter. Bear aimed his sniper rifle.

Two acknowledgement lights blinked green. A single sniper shot rang out, targetting the exposed orange worms of one of the hunter. The hunter flinched in pain, and a second shot followed. The hunter fell to the ground.

The second hunter, clearly pissed at the death of its comrade charged furiously at the ODSTs. All four ODSTs dove out of the way, firing their weapons blindly at the hunter. Peter fired two rockets straight at one hunter, who deflected the first rocket with its shield.

It wasn't so lucky the second time. The rocket blew the hunter off its feet, and left it lying on the ground in several charred pieces.

Peter stepped over the corpse of the hunter he killed as the squad continued, kicking it as he went.

"May he rest in pieces." He said, no doubt smirking under his helmet. Just as they were about to continue, a trio of Jackals turned a corner from a side street. Seeing the ODSTs that outnumbered them nearly two-to-one, the jackals turned and fled. Jade fired a few bursts from her assault rifle into the back of one of them, which instantly crumpled towards the ground, bullets tearing holes in the creature's back. The other two made a beeline for what seemed like an office building. Jade kept shooting her MA5C, killing a second Jackal.

Two dozen jackals came out of the office building.

"SHIT!" Stanely shouted, throwing himself to the side, taking cover by a burned out car as plasma bolts whizzed towards them.

"Tossing C-12!" Peter shouted, giggling maniacally. A small, fist-sized object landed in the midst of the jackals, and detonated a second later. Jackals corpses flew in every direction, leaving a few survivors. Stanley fired a short burst into a jackal's chest, and then turned its attention it its buddies.

A trio of golden armoured Skirmishers ran out of the building next. Funny. He mused. While extremely common during the beginning of the Battle of Reach, their population dwindled quite quickly during the battle. He had heard that a big transport carrying half a million of them, sent to attack Quezon had been on the wrong end of a Super-MAC Cannon's round. There were rumours that those speedy little bastards where close to extinction.

They leapt into the air, firing plasma with lightning speed. Stanley fired fully automatic at one of them and it rolled out of the way, and fired back at him. He dodged behind his own ruined car, and as one of those golden bastards charged at him from his right flank, he fired fully automatic into its chest. It was impossible to miss at thar range, and the skirmisher collapsed. He put nearly an entire magazine into the Skirmisher before it fell to the ground, dead. As he looked around, he could see the final skirmisher lying on the ground, minus three of its limbs. It was still alive, although pretty harmless. Peter stomped on it's skull twice before putting it out of its misery with his combat knife.

"Tango is down, Sarge." Peter said. Stanley frowned. Peter had been acting a little funny ever since the Fall of Reach, when his squad had been all killed by a Brute Chieftan in New Alexandria. Peter had managed to spray a canister of C-7 on the said Brute, before running away, the C-7 killing the Brute. This didn't really show up on the psych tests-it was just that suddenly, he took a lot more pleasure in the deaths of the Covenant. Of course, even if it did show up, it wouldn't matter much to the brass. He mused.

"Sarge? Are we checking out the building?" Jade asked. Her voice, while sounding excited on the surface, betrayed nervousness.

"Of course we are." He replied. "Let's spill some alien blood."

The ODST squad stepped inside the building. The lobby was clear of hostiles as far as he could see. There was a security desk, although the security guard was nowhere in sight. He was probally dead, although there was a chance he could have managed to make it to an evac bird.

There were around half a dozen human corpses lying around the lobby, and one dead jackal next to a human body. One of the human bodies-the one with a jackal next to it-had knife in his hand.

Stanley stepped over the corpses. They took the stairs to the next floor, which was a hallway, with a dozen offices. Two skeletons were lying on the ground-their flesh devoured. A trio of Jackals were crouched over a body in one of the offices. They appeared to be saying something. Stanley's new translator systems managed to translate.

"Gor, the brains are disgusting." One of the jackals were saying.

"Mow them down." Stanley said. Gunfire rang out, and the Jackals screamed in pain. They turned around, and one of them reached for its nearby plasma pistol, only to be cut down.

"Shit..." Jade muttered under her breath. "Those bastards..."

"They'll be avenged." Bear growled.

The ODSTs were climbing the stairs to the third and final floor, where at this point, all of the Jackals had read the conclusion that no, the humans that had attacked the building were not repelled by the force sent out the front doors.

Jok joined the shield wall of Jackals facing the stairs. He felt his charged plasma pistol hum in his hands. He was terrified. It was his first combat mission, and he really didn't want to get killed by some demon.

"Ror, do we really stand a chance against the demons?" He asked, trying (and probaly failing) to hide his terror.

Ror, a marksman and a vetran of several years of combat shook his head, trying (and failing) to keep the scorn out of his voice.

"Jok, they aren't demons. Demons are much bigger."

"Does it make a difference?" He asked.

"Here they come!" A Jackal warned. The doors blew apart, and six "small demons" burst inside, and they tossed grey objects, then retreated.

"GET AWAY!" Ror screamed. The Jackal shield wall scattered.

The "small demons" reappeared. They fired their weapons at the now-scatterd shield wall, turning his friend's bodies into corpses. Jok aimed his plasma pistol at one of the "small demons", who promptly turned and shot him in the arm. He felt a sharp burning pain, and screamed in agony. He saw Ror fire two shots from his Carbine, but with surprising speed for a human, one of the "small demons" grabbed a fallen shield gauntlet and activated it, deflecting the shots, and a second "small demon" gunned Ror down.

One human advanced on his prone form.

"Try to shoot me from the side you little shit?" It demanded. It raised a boot and stomped on him. Jok screamed as the armored human's boot crushed his other arm. It raised its weapon and pointed it directly at his head. Jok felt himself grow wet in his leggings. He was going to die.

"I SURRENDER! PLEASE! DON'T KILL ME!" He screamed desperately. The human stared at him, then looked away and said something to another "small demon." The other human said something, and the human that was pinning turned its sidearm back on him.

The human fired, and last thing Jok ever felt was a loud noise, then a sharp pain in his chest. Then just as fast as the pain had appeared, it disappeared, replaced by...nothingness.

"All hostiles eliminated." Jade said, holstering her pistol.

Norman-123 06:37, January 8, 2011 (UTC)

14
Operation: DIVINE SON

0411 Hours, October 24th 2552 (Military Calender)/ Village south of Thebes, Greece, Hellenic Republic

Staff Sergeant Wheatley ducked back around the corner, his breath caught in his lungs. ''Elites. Dozens of them.''

They hadn't seen him, and he double-checked to make sure he was downwind. The bastards could smell humans, it was only one more way they one-upped a UNSC marine. Taking down one of them was tough, the platoon would tear hunt him down and tear him apart if they found him, or the kids. The kids!

Risking being heard, he ran back down the alley and away from them, pulling the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Henri, Henri you still have this thing on?"

There was an anxious moment's hesitation. "Yes, we can hear you."

Moses checked over his shoulder. "Okay, we got a few problems here. We're going to have to go, air cover or no. Are there any aliens near you?"

"We haven't seen any."

He checked the alley behind him again. "That's good, that's real good. Sit tight and wait, I'll come to you."

Without waiting for an answer, he shut the talkie off and hurried down the sidewalk. The less time they were here, the less chance of being discovered. And if the Elites called in their location, they were as good as done for. Pulling the Battle Rifle around from where it hung by a strap across his back, he was just rechecking the safety on it when the whine of an engine reached him - and no human one.

Driven by fear and shaped by training and experience, he looked to the building facade on his left and threw his weight against a door. It opened with a crash, and he ducked inside.

Dust was everywhere, and the room was dark without any florescent lighting. A large storefront window was the only source of illumination, and Wheatley made sure he was out of sight of it as the whine became louder.

Presently, the shadow of a mandibled jaw passed across the window, followed by another. In the cold air, their breath was visible when they exhaled, a loud rasping sound. The whine of a Spectre assault sled was joined by the mutilated speech of the Elites, and quiet jibbering of a few Grunts. They were passing by, but one Elite voice seemed defiant of the second, a deeper and more authoritarian tone.

Wheatley didn't let his grip on his rifle ease after they passed the window. More light streamed into the room, as the door opened. Moses kept his glove's fabric pressed against his weapon's safety to keep it silent as he switched it off, watching the Split-Lip's shadow and readying himself.

The second Elite barked from outside, and the shadow vanished, headed to keep up with its company.

Hidden behind the doorframe, Moses breathed relief and slumped against the wall. That had been closer than a lot of his other experiences with them.

Safetying his rifle, Moses peered through the gap between the door and the wall, watching them turn a corner up the block. Cautiously, he emerged and continued back to their hideaway. It was time to go. Going where was what he'd have to figure out.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 06:20, January 8, 2011 (UTC)

15
OPERATION ETERNAL SPIRIT

0800 Hours, October 24, 2552 (Military Calender)/

D77H-TCI Bravo-014, In Bound to East Area of Tokyo, Japan

Justin-057 shifted uneasily in his MJOLNIR MARK VI/S Powered Assault Armor as he looked out of the Pelican, eying the destruction that was before him. Ruined buildings and smoke filled the landscape, with urban fire fights taking place everywhere. He wished he could be down there but right now, there were other important matters at hand.

"Don't worry. You'll be joining them soon enough." A middle aged man with graying black hair and cold blue eyes said, sitting beside him. He was of average height, dressed in a clean military uniform. However, he wasn't the sort of man who would those types of outfits, after all, he was ONI operative who rarely wore those types of things. But seeing him in it meant that something was going down.

Justin turned his head towards the man and smirked. "Why can't I be there right now? You guys had me recalled, canceling the assignment PUPPET MASTER had assigned me to."

"That's just the case. This Operation takes more precedence than your previous for a variety of reasons that I sadly cannot say. However I can tell you this. This assignment you will be undertaking requires someone of your caliber. Someone of your skill. Of course, there are others we could've asked but you are one of the best." The man said.

"And what would that be MAESTRO? No matter how much I showed my discontent to you and him, I will always be regulated to following orders. " Justin said as he crossed his arms, his white hair swaying in the wind.

"Whether you like it or not, you will be following my orders unless stated otherwise. You need to remember INNOCENCE. You are under my command." MAESTRO firmly said.

"For the time being that is." INNOCENCE retorted. "Although I have no say in this, those missions you have sent me on, they seem questionable. Just because we are in a war does not mean that you are allowed to undertake those directives."

"You must see it another angle. What me and the others do. We are doing it for the greater good of humanity, even if we have to do those things. I say again. It is the for the greater good of humanity. Whatever we have done, it can be justified." He said, eying the young SPARTAN.

"What are those justifications? I've been following you for years now and you have never given me a clear cut explanation! Then there are the promises. You promised me. You promised me that you would bring them back! But they're not here! All you say are lies!" Justin yelled at MAESTRO.

He scowled at Justin, knowing that the time for explanation would come. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "We will keep the end of our promises INNOCENCE but it all depends on you. We will give it to you in due time, but not at this time. We are fighting a war. Giving you it will distract you with your objectives. Now can we stop with the questions? We are wasting valuable time here as we can be shot down this very second."

A digitized voice suddenly filled the Pelican. "He is right INNOCENCE. We will keep our end of the bargain. Now, you would please stop with the questions and listen to us?"

Justin eyed MAESTRO's pocket. "So you have been listening to the entire conversation PUPPET MASTER?"

"Yes. I never leave my charges alone." He cooly replied.

He sighed with the statement. "What is the assignment?"

"Due to your skills and preference for solo missions, you are being assigned to take out the Covenant AA guns in the East. This is very crucial as there are multiple Covenant ships incoming but our ships are unable to engage. " The voice within MAESTRO's said. "However, due to their range, we will be dropping you off somewhere close. But there is some bad news."

"What's the bad news?" Justin replied.

"There's a mass of Covenant in your drop zone."

"Lovely." He said.