RP:Gaining Faith/Content

1
Commodore Robert Garcia said, "Reconnect all power systems," and there was light. In a matter of moments, the warship was once again, fully operational, as well as those following it's lead. The bridge's viewscreen and reinforced glass windows displayed the vast region of space that waited before them, and soon enough, two Covenant cruisers shifted forward into view, paying the Grapes of Wrath no attention. In the center of the screen, a white star star, apparently of a relatively small size. Almost new.

"Morgan," the Commodore had begun, turning and walking towards the rear end of the bridge. The executive officer exhaled and turned his head towards the fleet's commander, removing one hand from the operations panel to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

"Yessir?" he replied, unaware that he was slurring his words. Robert unfolded his arms and lightly pressed his right pointer finger unto the door key. "I'm leaving you with the bridge, I'm going to brief our battle forces. Especially our veterans from Hope, and the Spartans. And keep an eye on those Covenant vessels, I'm expecting them to break into an organized attack at any moment." The admiral stated, hurrying into the neighboring corridor. "Very well then," Morgan muttered, typing away at his post.

Riley-G311 and Ryder-K231 stood beside a surgical operations room, starring through the glass and below, entranced by the procedure. Jake-093, Juilet Varusisguard, Nikolai Torkamentov, and countless others laid motionless under an artificial sleep, as masked surgeons dug into their limbs, repairing broken and fractured bones.

"It's my fault..." Ryder claimed under his breath, his eyes intent on Juliet. "'S'not your fault, man." Riley assured him with a pat on the back. Ryder just shook his head, saying: "I wasn't fast enough. If I had a higher speed-to-strength ratio, I might have been able to save them all from this trouble. They're all busted-up because I couldn't shut that gate in time..." he muttered. "If anyone, blame all of us. You couldn't have shut it all without the rest of us... Your knee?"

Ryder shrugged. "It was repaired pretty quickly and easily. Not even broken, but displaced. Turns out that that bio-foam was all I really needed." Riley nodded in approval, and walked over to the neighboring operating room, leaving Ryder to gaze upon the others. Sceptical surgeons attempted to isolate any injuries that they could, with their limited knowledge of Sangheili anatomy, and their patient strapped to the medical bed by titanium cables, lest he attempt to rip free and crack one of their skulls. Riley and the others knew him better than that, but what could they say. Riley turned to his right, only to witness Commodore Garcia escorting yet another Spartan supersoldier to him. The Human clothed himself in nothing more than a mere towel, draped across his thighs. Blotches of blue frost matted his shoulders, suggesting that he was recently removed from a cryo-pod. As he neared, however, he recognized the face as all to familiar.

A somewhat-friendly rival to him, and an acquaintance to Ryder and Matt, although he wasn't sure just how the three stood with each other. Probably friends from training or something, as Riley vaguely remembered one of Matt's stories, involving them all being on some team together or something. Ryder gave Ender-K324 a brief pat on the back. Their conversation was indistinguishable from a distance, or maybe it was just that Riley didn't care enough to try listening. Garcia walked towards Riley, whom's eyes where inactively transfixed upon Turok.

The Commodore paused for a moment, before getting Riley's attention. "That was one hell of an effort back on Hope, Spartan. I'm promoting you right up to Petty Officer First Class, soldier." Riley didn't perk up until he heard about his promotion. "Thanks, sir. I appreciate it... really." Riley stated, blandly. "In a few hours, at most, I'm planning to deploy you, Ryder, Matt, and Ender into space. We have not the slightest clue where we are, but our locations almost seems too... coincidental. If that isn't enough scans indicate that we are somehow beings contained, and that their are material boundaries out somewhere."

Riley looked confused. "We are trapped?" he asked. Garcia shrugged, responding: "It's very likely. More analysis will become available soon, and we'll be sure to keep you updated. Even so, I've got a gift for you." Robert removed a slim chip from his pocket and placed it in Riley's open palm. In a second, he had it installed into his new MJOLNIR helmet's memory core.

"And those suits..." Garcia stated, motioning towards Riley's new MJOLNIR Mark V CQC variant armor. "Those things are expensive. Don't lose this one." Riley had to admit that he liked this one much more than his outdated CQB model. It featured a fully upgraded helmet, as well as a complete set of multi-threat armor pieces. A green sheet of titanium-microfibers draped down from the neckline, near the peak of the chestpiece. It was apparent that it had been custom made, as it featured Riley's signature forest camouflage colors as well as his Triad Team emblem.

As soon as Riley placed his helmet upon his head, a pale, dark-haired female wearing a thin white fabric appeared before him. Riley, forgetting for a split second, looked over the the Commodore, who had payed the hologram no attention. Riley soon remembered when installed into a MJOLNIR helmet, that the AI may appear solely to the wearer. Matt's AI worked rather differently. "You like it, do you not?" the Robert mused. "I had it programed just for you. She is fluent in just about any language, and is an encyclopedia of knowledge. She is also a virtual port for Data Net Terminals and the SRT UGPS. Not that that will come in handy out here, but... you'll find her quite useful, I think."

"Thank you. What is her name?" Riley asked calmly, carefully observing her image. "She calls herself the Oracle."

2
"Keep strapped in!" The Pelican's pilot screamed over the intercom as debris battered the tiny dropship. When Hope had collapsed, a lot of what had been the planet fell into the rift. Eirikur Quinn's dropship had been caught in the gravity well before it could reach the fleet. Now it was in the midst of this hurricane.

The ODST didn't know where they were, outside the windows there was only a haze of sand, with objects the size of boulders up to parts of continents, all falling towards something. He clung to the crash webbing for dear life as rubble pounded the hull, then screeched as larger chunk of rock sent the dented ship spinning in a random direction. Suddenly, a cloud of the dust got in as the hull was breached. The men around him screamed, choking on the dust, and sudden loss of pressurization. The air seeped out of the ship, leaving all but Quinn and the pilots in vac-sealed suits to suffocate. There was nothing the trooper could do as the man sitting directly next to him was asphyxiated.

The ship's copilot looked back, unreadable behind his silver-tinted helmet, observing the dead technicians and marines and still breathing Helljumper, and turned back to trying to control the ship.

Quinn didn't know what good it would do, they didn't know where they were and couldn't see it anyway. And with these violent turns, it was little use to try anyway. Heat began to come through the floor, which meant they were entering atmosphere. The debris field must be in the range of some planet.

Then Quinn heard a some sort of sputter, and the airblast sound of the engine exhausts disappeared. As he looked to the pilots, horrified, they began to drop faster.

They were gone for only moments, but in that time the G-force nearly caused him to black out. Then the engines roared to life and shot the Pelican forward, in whichever arbitrary direction forward was. Quinn felt the ship straighten out, and turn right side up. Outside, the air became clearer.

"I think we're out of the worst of it." the pilot said, sighing with relief.

He'd spoken too soon. Something struck the starboard wing. It burst into flame, barely operable. Quinn held onto his head, tired of being shaken, and looked out the back window. He caught sight of something sleek and purple in the cloud behind them. "Seraph!" he yelled.

"Gotta be kidding me." the pilot grumbled. "I'm opening the hatch, trooper, get the gun and take him down."

Reluctantly, Quinn unbuckled and stood, hanging onto the Pelican's frame. The hatch opened wide, and he quickly shifted his grip from the ship to the gun turret, and opened fire. It rattled off several hundred rounds per minute, but it wasn't enough to break through the Covenant fighter's shields. It answered him with more plasma cannons, slagging part of the ship's underbelly.

It got that much harder to shoot, the sand and black smoke from the ship reducing visibility. A bolt of plasma struck the underside of the tail, just above his head, washing him with heat. He fell back to the deck with a shout. Luck favored him, because as he watched, a falling piece of permacrete the size of a tank struck the Seraph. Its shields didn't break, but the sheer force sent it tumbling out of control.

"Hang on trooper, we might be landing pretty hard, we - gah!" Quinn turned, and saw the ground approaching too fast. The pilot threw up his hands as if to protect himself, and Quinn knew his only chance of survival had to be grabbed in moments which were bleeding away fast. Grabbing the turret, he pulled himself back, and jumped from the dropship, hoping he'd be lucky enough to live through the landing.

Even while Quinn's dropship was being battered around, another Pelican was in a completely different situation. Bravo 029 had pushed its limits returning to the Grapes of Wrath, and the strain on its body meant repairs needed to be carried out.

Staff Sergeant Moses Wheatley had scarcely seen a more beat-up bird. The repairs from when it had been damaged over Hades were temporary, and the wounds had reopened so to speak. Then, the tail section was close to being pulled off, and both wings were actually bent slightly backwards. How it had managed to escape beat the hell out of him, but the valiant bird had done it, somehow. He removed the heat shield from over his head, having just reconnected several 'sprained' hydraulic lines in the tail. "Try it again."

In the cockpit, LTJG Angel Yasunaka coaxed the damaged ship to life. After sputtering for a moment, all jets came to life as they were supposed to, just under the needed power to push it off the motor pool's deck.

"Whaddya know?" said Ensign Mikail Gossard, the copilot and radio operator. "I guess this proves there is life after death."

Wheatley eased himself off of his perch on the ship's tail and jumped down next to Goss. "A few more hours, then I'll say she's allowed to fly. But as soon as we get back to Earth, I want a complete overhaul of this thing. I really hope the Covies aren't looking for a big fight, 029 can only take so much more small arms fire before she breaks up completely."

"They won't hit anything." Angel said confidently, coming out of the troop bay. "But all the same, I guess we'll be moving troops and supplies, won't we?"

"Looks that way." Goss agreed. He looked over across the hangars to where the fighter techs were finishing fuel-ups and pre-flight checks. Maybe they were expecting a big fight from the Covies after all.

3
"Holy-" Ryder began to mutter as he watched the barely dressed man walk into the room. The man was around Ryder's height and only had a towel on his waist, with blue frost everywhere on him. Clearly, this guy just came out of cyro. Ryder quickly shook Garcia's hand, before heading further back towards his long-time friend Ender, a fellow Spartan.

"Long time, no see. It's been almost five years since I was put in cryo. Hope I didn't miss anything." Ender exclaimed, as Ryder pat him on the shoulder, brushing off small chunks of ice. "Heh," Ryder chuckled at this irony. "More like you missed Hope." Ender looked confused, as though Garcia had begun to explain to him the situation without finishing. "I have a lot to explain..." Ryder concluded, turning towards the wall as though to brief him under his breath.

"What's this?" Matt asked, silently entering the corridor alongside Morales. Ryder and Ender turned to welcome the two, as Matt toyed with a new firearm straight from the armory. "I'm Ender," the Spartan kindly explained. "I'm Ryder's old friend." Ender stared at Matt, noticing the major diference between the two of them. "Are you a Spartan-II?" he questioned Matt. Matt's face brightened, as he begun to join-in on the conversation.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Tron's avatar appeared before Matt, catching him off-guard, and intruding upon the conversation. Without a word, Tron walked over to Riley and Garcia. "May I?" the AI asked. Riley nodded, and the Oracle turned to Tron. Tron only stared back, and it had almost surprised him that Matt's AI was capable of visualizing and interacting with his.

The Oracle stood completely still, staring at Tron with large eyes. It gave Riley the impression that she was peering into her fellow AI's soul. Good thing that it wasn't so awkward talking to human women, he thought. He then remembered that it was capable of reading his mind, although she appeared to focus entirely on Tron. Tron turned an uneasy violet.

"I'm Matthew-123's personal AI program. I would like you to know that we are responsible to cooperate and collaborate with each other from this point on, and that I am willing to assist you however possible whenever necessary." Tron knew that he could have probably planned a better introductory speech, but this would do, he figured.

"Such is predictable, and I appreciate your willingness." the Oracle responded. These words stung Tron more than he had anticipated, and snapped him back into reality.

The dark atmosphere of a Phantom's hangar bay ensued for minutes to hours, and the constant pain of silence made each of it's occupants feel shunned and unwanted by their superiors. This occurred often, and was almost normal to lower-class castes such as that of Rin-T-Yar.

One daring Kig-yar broke the silence, boastfully snarling, "I killed three humans with one shot."

Rin snorted and growled back, "I was captured by four demons and had managed to escape. Your pathetic kill is worthless compared to me. I am apparently blessed by the Gods." The boastful one fell back into line, respecting his team-leader, who had recently been promoted to the rank of Major. Rin chuckled as he waited in the Phantom. "Blessed by the Gods? I'm a cunning little beast now." he thought, and with that, his escort had found refuge in the nearest Corvette's hangar, where it would endure throughout its journey into the rift.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 21:11, June 22, 2011 (UTC)

4
086 Awakened Follower quietly waited in obit of a desert planet. He had been waiting for millennia, and what he had been waiting for was quite unclear to him. Humans, reclaimers, and when they would arrive, he would be amongst the first to know. Today was his day, however, as out of the blackness of space had appeared a soft ribbon of distorted space-time. The beam stretched kilometers across the distant sky, and burned in a variety of exotic colors. Colors far out of most species spectrum. Follower's central eye dilated, focusing in on the warped region of space. A silver gate had been activated. Millions of sentinels, mostly in ruins, poured in.

086 Awakened Follower looked on, amazed, watching as purple vessel after purple vessel exited the portal from a distance. "Oh dear me," he transmitted to his devoted followers, who swiftly levitated towards him. The AI each watched from a vast distance, as the starship dropped into distant orbit of the sphere's star. "They aren't human, but Covenant." one claimed. Awakened Follower acknowledged him, as AI of his sort have had many unpleasant skirmishes with their kind. We must eliminate the threat," a Sentinel alerted him. "Of course, of course. That is unless the reclaimers aren't far behind."

Surely enough, about half as many human vessels tore through the portal like a wave. "We shall provide the human's aid." one stated. Follower agreed. He wasn't actually a follower of any sort, but a leader. The authority of the Zenith Complex. --TehSpartan with assistance from Pikapi

5
Luc was one of the first to awaken from his anesthetic induced slumber, his head groggily turning. As he sat up and surveyed his surroundings, he was surprised to see that he was in a medical ward of some kind, with doctors, surgeons and other medical personnel still operating on some of the patients around him. He was about to rub his eyes, before he noticed one crucial thing was different about his left arm. It was strangely metallic, and oddly skeletal. When he flexed the prosthetic arm, he watched as the five digits, blunt when compared to actual human fingers, curled inwards, forming a fist much like a normal arm of flesh and bone would do. "What.." he muttered, trailing off. He never did finish that sentence, as the even flashed through his mind. Not even reinforced bone could stand the force of a blast door closing during violent decompression.

Commodore Garcia, who had been peering with the group down into the surgical bay, arched an eyebrow. "It seems Lucas is awake. Just in time to deploy with the you all as well." he noted, gesturing to the gurney the confused Spartan laid on.

TheivingFan 21:19, June 23, 2011 (UTC) Sorry it took a while.

6
Admiral Torkamentov looked around the bridge of the Pax Americana, as the power kicked in. That jump had been very risky, but it seemed to have worked off. He stood still for a second as he waited for his headache to subside, then said, "How are we?" Crewmen began working at their stations as damage reports came flooding in. It quickly became apparent that the jump had done quite a number on the ship. "Sir, it looks like we lost Engine 2. That's going to take at least a day to fix. We've also lost most of our sensors, so we are pretty much blind for now. They figure they can get us at least limited function in 6 hours. Over half our weapons emplacements sustained some level of damage, and a lot of that we're going to need specialized parts to fix. The techies figure they can get us back up to at least 60% capacity, depending on how long we have to rest. The hangars weren't majorly damaged, so we can still launch most of our Longswords and Pelicans."

Torkamentov grimaced as he received the reports. "Damn. If the Covenant came for us now, we'd be sitting ducks. Fortunately, they don't seem very interested in us." He thought for a second, and then issued his orders. "Alright, work on the damage as much as we can. Tell them to focus on that engine. I want full mobility back ASAP. Meanwhile, launch our Longswords, so we can have some coverage. And we might as well send some of them to check out the system, and scan any major planets here." He looked about at the crew that had endured so much, in so little a time. "Lets get to work," said Torkamentov as he sat down in the command chair.

Clyde Stirling strapped a knife onto his boot as he thought back to everything that had happened. The no holds barred fight for Port Neandra, and now he was here, on a starship in the middle of some sort of space rupture thingy. Really, he didn't know what the hell had happened, but apparently there was no way back. And now he was being deployed to some sort of planet they had found in here. He looked around at everyone else in the armory. They were getting ready for deployment into the unknown, and you could tell that on everyone's faces, and in their words.

Finally, it was time to go. Clyde linked up with is squad members, and they waled down to the hangar. Walking down the rows of Pelicans, they reached the one that they were to be deployed on. It looked pretty beaten up, and there were numerous plasma scorches on the sides. His squad leader said, "Alright, Denver Squad, load up. Remember, once we land, move fast. We don't know what's going to hit us once we've landed. So move to stay alive. Got it?" Everyone else roared their acknowledgement. Clyde silently filed into the back of the Pelican. After a bit of waiting, he could feel the Pelican move beneath his feet, and they roared out of the hangar, to who knows where.

--Azecreth 23:45, June 23, 2011 (UTC)

7
"Come on, Riley! We're back in battle! Let's show some battle spirit!" Matt exclaimed from his rear seat in the cockpit of Delta 09. "Yee Haw." Riley sighed, blandly mocked his enthusiasm. Riley quickly pressed a button and flipped a switch on the control panel, before turning his head to acknowledge Ryder and Ender, sharing Delta 12, the Sabre across from them. Bravo 09's engines began to roar, and blue flames erupted from it's rear engines. Ryder mimicked Riley's movements on his fighter's control board, and Bravo 12 followed directly behind as Riley's fighter left the hangar. Riley adjusted his helmet's radio transmitter. "This is Delta leader. All wings check in." In seconds, the communications channel was filled with chatter. Ryder, being the only one who dared to muse "Red Five, standing by."

As soon as the last Sabre had exited the Grapes' left hangar bay, the already deployed squadron of Longswords looped over the vessel and down to meet up with them. They coordinated over a separate channel, yet Riley knew that they were all going to strike the same Covenant corvette once he noticed Morales piloting the Longsword to his left, giving him a thumbs up. In the co-pilot seat, Riley watched Luc navigate. Turning to the opposite side, he could make out Bravo 029 looming in the distance.

Without time to waste, the entire squad swerved right to eliminate the nearest Corvette's engines. Riley liked the idea that in this one battle, they would be the one's initiating the first strike. Riley made the first move, looping under the corvette's aft rim, as Matt bombarded one sub-light engine with missiles. They didn't go unnoticed, however, as seraphs and banshees soon swarmed the corvette's rear. Riley watched in horror as a neighboring Pelican was ripped into shreds. Matt quickly scanned the area to confirm that it wasn't Bravo 029, which it wasn't.--  Chris  talk   blog  19:13, June 24, 2011 (UTC)

8
Quinn’s hand grasped a hold on the slick, black rocks lining the riverbank. It took the last of his energy to haul himself up out of the water and into the bed of ferns, where he lay catching his breath.

He’d been extraordinarily lucky. The fall would have certainly killed him if he hadn’t landed in the river. The force of the landing had still hurt. A roaring filled his ears, not too far up was a waterfall. He tore off his helmet, trading the humid heat inside his helmet for the humid heat of the jungle, and crawled to the water to drink. Only after that did he think about possible sicknesses, but the air was breathable and the water cool and clear.

Looking up into the sky, he saw the smoke trail from the wounded Pelican still in the air. Though reluctant to leave his shaded part of the bank, he needed to find that Pelican, and started picking his way through the brush, always keeping the trail overhead in sight.

The ship Quinn had been riding had come to a halt at the base of a cliff. A deep furrow of fresh earth had been cut into where the ground was otherwise covered by thick, green vegetation. The cockpit section had either been torn off before the landing, or crushed to inches in width, based on how the rest of the ship sat squarely at the base.

Quinn already knew he was the only survivor, the ship had landed too hard, and most were dead before that, anyway. Still, the supplies it carried would be useful.

As he stepped into the troop bay, he noticed that the rear gun had been torn from its mount, and was nowhere to be seen. The bodies of the eight or so technicians were still strapped in, and Quinn found none of them had been carrying weapons.

He bit his lip. His own rifle and pistol were gone, he wanted a weapon. The pilots would have had sidearms, but he wasn’t likely to get one. And the troop bay didn’t have anything else in it but scattered boxes of spare parts. That meant all he had was his knife. Useful, yes, but not as good security as a firearm.

Quickly, he found matters worse. The Pelican’s emergency beacon, housed in the front section, had also been smashed. That meant only his FOF tag could be picked up, if any UNSC craft or personnel were even near the same planet as he was.

He had a feeling he’d have to make his own luck, now. At the very least, the emergency rations cache was intact, and he stuffed what he could into a borrowed rucksack. If he got out of this valley and to higher ground, he had a better chance of being spotted.

As he started walking away from the wreck of the Pelican, a loud roar broke out over the forest, chilling the ODST to the bone. He’d heard that howl before, when his squad had finally escaped Reach. For days, they’d been fighting the enemy non-stop as civilians were evacuated, until even the renegade soldiers who’d refused to abandon the effort admitted defeat. By the time the troopers had given in, it was almost too late to escape the slaughter.

In the skyways over New Alexandria’s streets, the Brutes they’d been fighting had lost any semblance of control. With their enemies fleeing, they’d gone recklessly after them like starving animals. One or two would ambush the squad without weapons, breaking bones and beating marines to death, then drag a man still alive into the shadows we left behind, the survivors unable to shut out the screams as they ran on. When Bravo 029 finally picked his squad up, there were barely any left.

And now, the Jiralhanae pilot of that Seraph was alone here with him. Quinn’s knife would count for nothing, he’d seen veteran Helljumpers torn apart in the apes’ bare claws. And it was probably better at surviving in the jungle than he was.

The trooper hurried away from the crash site, hoping it wouldn’t find his trail and realize Quinn was alive out there, vulnerable prey just a perfect target for revenge.

From the observation deck of one of the Covenant cruisers, Cor 'Kedaree watched as human ships swarmed the distant corvette. He wondered at what the purpose of the corvette's position and the human attack was, but he was no Shipmaster. He'd never had a mind for strategy. Killing was more his talent.

"Am I to be deployed soon?" Cor asked, having heard the Fieldmaster approach.

"In time. There are many things to be understood before we can take action. If the humans land, you shall follow. If not, alert your warriors for boarding action. It will be soon enough."

Cor showed none of the expected but not required gestures of respect to his superior. He prided himself as having no superior when it came to butchering humans hand-to-hand, as fighting should be done. In time, then? He would be ready.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 21:13, June 24, 2011 (UTC)

9
"Let's give 'em a hand." Luc calmly stated, nodding over to the struggle taking place near the rear end of the Corvette. "Hold on, hold on. I'm on it." Morales replied, banking the large interceptor in the direction of the fight, their wingman following suit. "All weapon systems, reading green!" Luc shouted. "Accelerating to attack speeds." Morales replied, hand pushing the throttle bar, located on the central console that divided the two pilots, up. The engines quickly responded to the heightened amount of fuel intake, the craft picking up speed as it engaged a Seraph.

"How are our boys doing?" Commodore Garcia asked, once he had returned to the bridge. "Reports show one dropship lost, but both Sabre and Longsword squadrons remain intact, for the moment." Guy reported, his green avatar flickering for a moment, before returning to its normal state Nodding in acknowledgeent, he made his way over to a holotable displaying the small battle, while conversing with Admiral Torkamentov, over a comm link.

TheivingFan 12:57, June 25, 2011 (UTC)

10
"Tron, help me out here," Matt muttered as another Banshee exploded beside his Sabre. Not much of an accomplishment, however, as a horde of Banshees and Seraphs flooded from every open hangar on the ship. "Plug me in." Tron responded in Matt's head.

Matt unplugged the interface chip, and placed it into the Sabre's weapon systems. Suddenly, colorful markers appeared all across his visor. "What the fuck, Tron?" Matt said allowed.

"It's a targeting system, Matt. Red circles indicate that the target poses a great threat. Orange is less urgent. And greens are allies." Tron transmitted. "Okay, well you only blocked half of my screen." Matt responded. "You'll get used to it." Riley stated. Matt didn't respond, and nor did Tron. Matt then remembered that Riley had recently received an AI program of his own.

"Seraph coming around your rear," Tron started, as Matt turned the turent to hit the oncoming ship. "Riley, everything okay?" Matt asked. "Just peachy," Riley sarcastically replied.

Ryder spoke through the comm to Ender, "Aim for the engines, and worry about the Banshees later! I can get them off our tail." Ender sighed. "I hope so. You always were the expert pilot out of the two of us." Ryder grinned and started to flip over the Banshees trailing them. "Ender, NOW!!!" Ryder yelled. Ender shot the missile aiming straight into the main engine and watched the explosion from the rear end of the ship. "You don't have to yell at me, Ryder," Ender smirked. "I'm capable of saving my own hide."

"Ender? Shut up."

Juliet opened her eyes. She was in a medical bay. it wasn't long before she figured out just where. Juliet tried to sit up, but the doctor pushed down, saying, "Not yet. Your leg is broken. We still need to repair it. Go back to sleep..." Juliet obeyed the command.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 15:13, June 25, 2011 (UTC)

11
"No enemy movement, Master Chief. We are holding our position"

Kane-099 sat in the engineering bay of the UNSC Bright New Day, making making checks on his armour systems. Since their flight from Reach and the subsequent battle on Hope, he hadn't had time to repair his suit fully. They had made hasty repairs on vital systems, but had not made a detailed check. In a half-an-hour, he had fixed the glitches in his motion tracker. The Spartan put on his helmet and walked over to the intercom. To an observer, the Master Chief was a giant, clad in black armour that made him difficult to see in the red emergency lights of the bay.

"This is Kane. Assemble the others, I'm coming up."

"Copy that Chief, everyone is up here but Alex, he's on his way."

"I'll be there in five. Out."

Kane made sure he had all his gear with him, including his Sniper Rifle, which had been cleaned and refitted, and his customised M7 Submachine Gun. He holstered the weapons and proceeded to the elevator. By the time Kane got to the Bridge, everyone had arrived. All of the Spartans and ODST's were present: Jax-007, Marco-025, Alex-A121, Martin-A136, Louie-A199, Sergeant Major Richard Mack Junior, Corporal Bell, and Privates Dekker, Samson, Raikov and Peterson. Several of the Frigate's few dozen technicians and engineers were in the room also, looking over computer terminals or making repairs. Mack spoke first. "Sir, we've confirmed that no Covenant ships have spotted us yet, but that may change at any moment. I'd reccomend we leave here and get back to Earth as soon as we can."

The ODST stood, staring at Kane for a few seconds more. Like his father, who had helped train the members of Sigma, he was difficult to read, and although they were both technically the same rank, the Spartan was still in charge. "I understand that we need to get back, Sergeant Major, but something is going on down there" he said flatly, gesturing out of the viewscreen towards where Hope had been. "Also" he continued. "The Cole Protocol is still in Effect. We need to ensure that no data falls into enemy hands. We don't know if the navigation databases of friendly ships were purged before they were crippled; we've got several ships out there still".

Mack sighed and nodded before turning back to one of the consoles. The ODST's of Whiskey-04 dispersed as well, closely followed by the Spartans. Their work was not done yet. Marco approached him, cradling his helmet in his hand. "Kane, I know there's some weird stuff going on with that planet, but I'm honestly not too sure what we can do. Our transmitter is fried, so we can't contact friendly ships, and our MAC has one shot left." Kane removed his helmet as Marco finished. He hadn't slept in nearly three days. "Well, we're going to hold our position here. If a Covvie ship so much as twitches towards us, we jump, allright?"

Marco Shrugged. "Just saying, we fight better with some ground beneath our feet, sir."

"I know"

Marco exited the bridge, following several technicians who were heading to the Ship's armoury. Kane sat in the Captains chair. It creaked slightly under the Spartan's weight. They would wait a while, and if there was no change within 24 hours, they would leave the system. He looked around at the men and women working at their stations. It had been his idea to charge in and assist, and that had gotten them nowhere. Hope was lost. Suddenly, red alarm klaxons began sounding as the Bridge Crew darted from screen to screen. Louie looked up from his. "Chief, we've got an incoming contact entering the system, it's coming in very close!" The Spartan stood up and activated the intercom. "All crew to stations!" He deactivated it, and spoke quietly to himself. "This is about to get interesting..."

--Brodie-001

12
Cor thought he understood the humans' tactics now. They'd made a preemptive strike, knowing that eventually the Covenant shipmasters would decide to cleanse the galaxy of them. So while the corvette was seperated from the main fleet, they were attempting to take out the threat it posed. Pragmatic, despite that even a corvette could pose a serious risk to a human destroyer.

He stood with his team of Special Operations Sangheili in a Lich-class boarding craft, having just launched from the cruiser, running dark to avoid detection for the time being. When the pilots of the two other Liches and the four Phantom gunboats activated their impulse drives to get in close and board the Grapes of Wrath, they'd be spotted and their infernal heavy guns would tear the seven ships apart in moments. But they wouldn't need much time.

"Remember your task!" Cor shouted harshly. "Take the human ship's AI, and retreat to the craft! Honor in combat means nothing if we do not complete our objective. If you fall behind, you will be left behind."

Hardly inspiring words, but that was not what his warriors needed. They needed orders, and they needed to obey them.

Private Eirikur Quinn remembered the holovid of The Most Dangerous Game from his schooling. He wished he could remember more of the parts where the main character had set traps and less of the description of how a thinking opponent made for the best sport.

The Jiralhanae's eyes had missed nothing, and as Quinn watched from under tree cover on a high bluff, the Brute had looked inside the Pelican's wreckage, sniffed the air, and set off to follow the trooper's path. He could have sworn the beast, without its armor or weapons, had looked directly at him. Now, he was gaining ground fast. Quinn had one desperate trick up his sleeve.

He selected a tall evergreen tree with low-hanging branches, and ran straight under it, then on for a good ways before he came to a wide, shallow stream. Then, he quickly and carefully walked backwards along his path to the tree, and pulled himself up into its lower branches, and climbed high into its upper shadows. Once he was safely holding onto its boughs, he sat perfectly still, waiting for his pursuer.

He didn't have to wait long.

The Brute tore through the undergrowth, its claws and muscled arms tearing aside the vegetation that had slowed the marine. He was good size as far as Brutes went, but not the biggest Quinn had seen. Its hide was coated with sweat and grime beneath knotted black fur, most held down by what remained of some sort of flight suit which had been burned and torn in several places. Its yellowed teeth poked out through its jaws, leading a pair of red eyes.

It never slowed down as it passed Quinn's hiding place. He waited about a minute, as the enemy pilot ran beyond, farther up the trail. Quinn climbed down quickly, but now able to take his time.

With any luck, the Jiralhanae would figure that he'd crossed the river, if it was unable to find his trail, it would assume he'd gone up or downstream a while to shake his pursuer. Meanwhile, the ODST would forge a completely different path, following up the stream to higher ground. If the Brute figured out this at all, Quinn would likely gain several hours which he could use for rest. But he didn't slow down his running speed. He didn't want to see this creature a second time if he could help it.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 03:43, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

13
086 Awakened Follower sent out a COM ping towards the desert planet below. To someone uninformed it would simply be a COM glitch. However the Sentinels and Enforcers received it as a signal to attack. Soon hordes of Sentinels and Enforcers were rising off the desert planet

"Delightful," said Follower "Glorious." The Forerunner drones moved towards the first enemy target; a Covenant Frigate. They fired their energy beams along the hull of the frigate. The ship's shield flicked and died under the intense barrage of fire. Tongues of flame were spreading on the ship tearing through it, murdering the crew inside. The ship lost all control and began a descent into the desert planet's atmosphere.

"Leave it," said Follower. He knew a ship that damaged could not survive re-entry. He scattered his forces. Sending them to destroy any enemy they could find. Follower however stayed behind. He quickly hacked into to the humans COM channel. "They have such simple communications," he thought to himself. He sent a message through the COM channel. "To all human forces this is 086 Awakened Follower, monitor of the Zenith Complex. I would like to arrange a parley between myself and your commander. I would like to form an agreement to fight the Covenant away from this station. Do not worry, we are on your side."--TehSpartan 15:13, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

14
"How strange," the Oracle began out of nowhere, startling Riley.

"What?" Riley asked, in a somewhat annoyed tone. "I'm reading that our next target was eliminated. Closer analysis suggests that it wasn't us who had taken in, however, and there doesn't appear to be any heavy weapon entry marks. Surprising, considering that it was neutralized so quickly."

"I see," Riley responded. He figured that he didn't have time to play detective games at the moment, and that Garcia would contact him with an explanation soon enough. Riley turned his head to the right, watching as a Seraph sped directly towards him, the exploding Covenant frigate in the distance. Riley raised his right hand, motioning for Matt to remain patient as he turned to give him a better firing angle. Riley also held clenched his turret lever. "Seraph on our-" Suddenly, the fighter jerked forward. Riley and Matt were certainly unsure of the situation, as a silver blur covered their screen. Riley squinted, figuring that it was his eyes, but upon opening them, he could clearly make out the figure of a single sentinel being smudged against his screen. The crack slowly began to form in the glass. Riley released the thrusters, and the Sentinel was lost among a wave of similar, silver shapes. The two could then make out chunks of the pink, illuminating hull of what was to be their opponent directly before them. Riley braced himself as it approached at a breakneck speed, and rolled up the hood of their Sabre. The silver wave not contained a hint of violet, with seraph, banshee, and other mechanical parts mixed in.

"To all human forces this is 086 Awakened Follower, monitor of the Zenith Complex." a curious voice began. The voice seemed to crackly, yet it didn't sound static-like. It was so believable that Riley turned back to see if Matt was making the noise. "I would like to arrange a parley between myself and your commander. I would like to form an agreement to fight the Covenant away from this station. Do not worry, we are on your side." Riley was shocked upon identifying that the voice was, in fact, a transmission. As soon as the message ceased, the standard radio static resumed.

"Th... G...ci..., Riley! Riley, Matt! Come in! Th...s is Garc...!"

"Hello, sir." Riley exclaimed as soon as he confirmed the message to be from Garcia. "Did you get the transmission?" Riley asked Garcia. "Yes, I did. And I was just about to contact you." Garcia responded. "I was going to alert you to the fact that we've found a curious alliance with those machines. It seems as though I have a meeting to attend to," --  Chris  talk   blog  16:09, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

15
"Sir." Robert stated, gazing up at a video uplink, showing an Admiral Nikolai Torkamentov on the other end. "I take it you got the memo too?" Nikolai asked, an eyebrow arched. "Yes, and about this Awakened follower... I belive it would be best if the meeting was held here, aboard the Grapes. She's the largest ship in the fleet, and would be able to withstand a Covenant attack long enough for the fleet to respond." Torkamentov remained silent a few moments, before nodded. "Alright, send a response to this montior, while I get aboard a Pelican. " Robert nodded, already gesturing to the ship's comms officer. "I'll see you." Nikolai stated, before promptly cutting the link, plunging the screen into static. Turning away from the display, Robert striaghtened his cap. "Recall all combat aircraft, and await further orders." he stated, walking over to the comms officer.

16
The strike must be accomplished quickly, before the human warriors returned. It occurred to Cor 'Kedaree that the corvette might have been bait to lure away the fighters, solely for the purpose of his attack. His Shipmaster had wanted a human AI, though he knew not why. The former Ossoona had encountered them before, they were not very worthwhile. The constructs usually were spiteful and committed suicide before any data could be extracted. The ships had just engaged the impulse drives, and were jumping straight into the middle of the humans' loose fleet formation.

"Brace yourselves!" Cor shouted at his subordinates as they slowed to normal space.

There was no immediate reaction from their enemy, only just detecting them in their midst. This moment of surprise gave the ships the time they needed. The gunships heated their cannons and fired superheated plasma into the armored sides of the Grapes of Wrath. It was not enough to do serious damage, but the Phantoms hit key areas for their response. Point-defense emplacements, launch bay doors, and a number of crew compartments with weaker armor to hurt them. Humans that had been in those sections were either killed by the decompression, or sucked into the vacuum to die in the cold, airless void.

Cor held tight as his Lich and its two wingmen rammed the side of the Wrath. Its daggerlike arms latched into the titanium-A armor and its central tube used contained plasma to burn into the ten-meter thick hull, digging open a passageway for entrance. With his SpecOps combat harness sealed, he led his warriors silently into the heart of the enemy vessel.

"Holy-" Angel kept from cussing as the Grapes of Wrath shuddered from the Liches connection. Looking over the motor pool, she saw that a circle in the outer hull was glowing, the heat from one of the Covenant ships trying to burn a hole through to gain entry.

"Boarding party! Lock and load!" she shouted, the other technicians, pilots, and marines in the bay scrambling to arm themselves. Angel found her sidearm, and saw that Goss and Wheatley were likewise pulling weapons. The crew chief even went so far as to start unscrewing the bolts holding down the heavy MG in Bravo 029's troop bay.

When the Elites came through, the marines were ready for them. A hail of lead cut anything coming out of the entry tube to bloody shreds. In answer, some started shooting blue fire before they even entered the Wrath's artificial gravity, but the humans lost nothing until one martyr Unggoy managed to light and throw a plasma grenade, landing right behind an overturned crate being used as cover by three marine security personnel.

With the screams and explosion came a gap in the firing line. And with the unceasing line of aliens coming through, it was obvious the boarding craft held an incredible amount of troops.

"Fall back!" the Lieutenant, Junior Grade yelled over the chaos. Fleeing the aliens, they fell back into the passages into the launch bay, containing them in the room.

Angel got a ping on her helmet com, and answered immediately while Goss fed an ammunition belt into Wheatley's machine gun. "This is Captain Garcia, what in the hell is going on down there?"

"LTJG Yasunaka, sir! Elites and Grunts have taken the launch bay, but we're holding them."

"Copy that, we have forces on return. The launch doors were damaged, they'll have to blow open the doors and fight their way inside. We also have reports of boarding parties advancing on the bridge and engineering. Hold tight, help will come from outside."

In a different part of the ship, Cor knew his attack was going well so far. The diversions had landed safely, and now a large force held their fighter bays and a smaller team made a feint toward their officers on the bridge. His own group, in the meanwhile, would strike at engineering, and steal the Artificial Intelligence programs housed within. Perhaps he could damage their reactors while he was there. No reason not to slow the enemy down.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 22:40, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

17
"Calamity!" Exclaimed Awakened Follower. The Covenant had just boarded the ship on which you was to meet the human commander." I must assist them," he said as he began floating towards the ship, which had been designated the UNSC Grapes of Wrath. He entered the the launch bay and saw a dreadful sight. Covenant boarders had infiltrated the ship and were engaged in a bloody battle with the humans. He targeted a large alien donned in a suit of black armor.

He charged a laser aimed at the alien who registered as a Sangheili. The laser took the creature by complete surprise his eyes bulging as the laser burned a large hole through his torso.

"Sweet Mother of God what is that thing!" Follower heard a human yell. "Greetings I am 086 Awakened Follower monitor of the Zenith Complex." The Covenant stared to disperse into cover at the arrival of a hostile Forerunner relic, an Oracle no less. Follower decided the humans could take care of themselves. "Now if you excuse me I have a meeting with your commander," he said with an air of finality.--TehSpartan 23:47, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

18
Torkamentov grimaced as alarm bells rang out across the bridge of the Grapes of Wrath. The Admiral had shuttled over for this meeting with the new allies they had gained. Only now something was wrong. "What is it," asked Torkamentov. "Sir, the Covenant have boarded the ship. We're detecting a large group in the fighter bays, and a smaller group headed towards the bridge. We also have detected a group headed towards engineering."

Thoughts raced through Torkamentov's head, and he said, "Order all security personnel to stop the boarders. Put the ship into lockdown procedure." Klaxons began to howl across the ship, and partitions slammed down in many of the corridors. "Lets hope that the guys currently fighting have enough firepower to stop the boarders," said Torkamerntov. He walked over to the monitor, and stared at the dots on the screen that calmly belied the battle raging.

Clyde ducked back behind the tree that he was using for cover. Something had been SNAFU'ed, and his squad had been dropped into the middle of a raging firefight. He ducked out again, and pulled off a couple shots with his assault rifle. As he pulled away from some plasma fire, he saw to his satisfaction that the target he had been aiming for was down. The problem was that this wasn't the best place to fight a battle, and many good men were being lost. Turning on his radio, he called out, "This is Denver Four to Command. We are under fire, requesting an airstrike. Over" The radio crackled, and out came, "Roger that, Denver Four. What is your location?" Clyde rang out the coordinates, and then ducked out again to take a shot at a couple Grunts who were trying to flank the Marines. The radio crackled again and said, "Copy that. Pelicans are en route with the delivery package. ETA is five minutes. "

The five minutes seemed to last for hours, as the fight continued. Finally, Clyde heard the humming of helicopter blades as the Pelicans passed overhead. He dove to the ground as bombs impacted among the Covenant positions. Getting up, he saw that the bombs had wrecked much of the Covenant defensive emplacements. A plasma shot whizzed by, and Clyde ducked down again. The bombs hadn't gotten all of them, but this would make things easier. Clyde decided to risk it. He stood up, and ran to the nearest Covenant defense point. Hopping behind one of their emplaced guns, he turned it on the remaining defenders. Soon, they were all dead or running.

The rest of Denver Squad came up and took possession of the defenses. The squad leader came forward, looked him over, and said, "Denver Four, you are one reckless son of a bitch. Either you're going to wind up dead, or we're going to have to give you a medal." Clyde looked himself over. Nothing had injured him except for bruises and a few minor cuts. The squad leader roared, "Alright Denver Squad. Reload, and lets get a move on. We can't keep the bastards waiting, can we?" "NO, sir," yelled the rest of the squad.

--Azecreth 17:49, June 27, 2011 (UTC)

19
Riley made slowly flew his heavily-damaged sabre to the first hangar bay that he could identify on the Grapes. He watched as the silver horde of sentinels swarmed the hull of the attacking vessel. As soon as Delta 09 and Ryder's Delta 12 made their way into the hangar, the casualties of war had soon become apparent. They were amongst the only sabres to make it back successfully. Riley watched as a single pelican dropship followed them into the hangar. It had amazed him that Bravo 029 was still fully operational. It had surpassed it's expected lifetime many years ago. It seemed as though the old ship was holding onto life with every ounce of strength that it had. From the look of Morale's ruined longsword, returning after it's first battle, Riley was certain that survival was a matter of luck.

Ryder leapt from the cockpit of Delta 12 with a look of disgust across his face. He gazed across the room, watching as a group of sentinels patrolled the entire hangar bay. If anyone knew just how disillusioned these ancient AI were, it was him. It had been sentinels and enforcers who safely escorted the damaged fighters back to the Grapes. It was also them who were holding-off the banshees and seraphs currently swarming the damaged side of the vessel and forcing them to retreat. Then again, it was those whom broke his leg, and them who were responsible for the brutal deaths of every-last living thing who had resided on Hope at the time of it's collapse.

An unfamiliar heptagonal-shaped construct made it's way to the exhausted group. "Oh dear me, biologically enhanced humans! You must be the Spartans!"

"Yes, we are." Riley calmly stated, walking up to the hovering chunk of metal. "Commodore Garcia requests you to attend the meeting. After all, you are among his right hand men." the AI hovered towards the the neighboring corridor expecting the group to follow him. Ender was confused. "Right hand-?"

"Shh! He probably wants us to serve as his bodyguards." Matt whispered in response. "Think we could take out a few angry floaters?" Matt mused, loading his rifle. Ryder smiled. Luc stepped before the scheming Spartans. "But only if it's necessary."--  Chris  talk   blog  18:31, June 27, 2011 (UTC)

20
"Turok! Wake up!"

As the Elite staggeringly stood, the first thing that came to Turok's mind was "Where am I?" The second thing was the voice on the loudspeaker. Commandore Garcia called out to Turok, "The Covenant have have come aboard the Grapes of Wrath! I need you to go to the locker to pick up your equipment."" As Turok put on his battle harness, he noticed the second energy sword.

Silum's energy sword.

Turok remembered how he got the sword. As Turok ran from that crazy Engineer, he picked up the sword, throwing away the other blade he took from the Zealot. Turok remembered the Ultra and the battle the two had. Silum fought too calmly for an Covenant warrior, and Turok heard that Huragok call him her "little Heretic." Turok now knew that his battle against the more experienced warrior was actually a battle of allies. "Shame he's dead" Turok thought as he finished putting on his armor, We would have made a good team.

As Turok put on his helmet, the HUD came on, and Garcia's voice came into the earpiece. "Turok, head down into engineering and protect the major reactors. I've got a meeting with a floating eyeball and need the crew to hold the ship. Keep an eye on those machines." Turok nodded and silently spoke back, "Understood."

21
Though the few humans still alive were fighting and dying in corners around him, Cor walked calmly through the reactor rooms. His focus rifle rested solidly on his back, ready should he need it. He heard the familiar screams and smell of burning flesh, but he had no time to take part in the combat. He had a priority task.

Approaching one of the Wrath's consoles, he began typing in human script, a talent he'd picked up from one of his superiors in his previous post, Veral T'ramee. He'd always been better than Cor at slicing into human systems and pulling what was needed, but it was frustrating that at the same time he was an infinitely better duelist. That was when Cor had started to learn the use of the Covenant Army's wrist blades. With them, he was quite skilled.

There. This classification of human ship housed two AI for its own use, plus it seemed, several more that were present. Of its own operation AIs, one was active. He blocked it with the codes T'ramee had used in the Lance, which the humans didn't have a developed defense against. Next, he used manifests to find where the other was being held, in an isolated sort of storage drive. There it was, with two other AI in similar storage.

Quickly, Cor and his two lieutenants climbed to a second-level shelf, and there found the storage. Housed in a beam of light, each of the three seemed to be curled asleep. Without trouble, Cor transferred them into their respective storage devices and pulled them. The first was the Wrath's operations AI, the second and third he was uninterested in until the third. . . awakened. . . just before he withdrew it. The fact that it had done so perturbed him. Filing the event for later study, he turned to look at the exit on the first floor when light flashed from it.

Two of the Special Ops Sangheili fell dead, their wounds smoking. There stood a Sangheili Major Domo, or Officer, with a sword ignited in each claw. As it looked up towards Cor, recognition led him to curl his mandibles in amusement. "The heretic." Had he the time, he would have engaged Turok himself. But the captured programs needed to be taken.

"'Moram!" Cor called, insulting him by negating the honorary 'ee' suffix. He addressed his lieutenants, who'd drawn their swords and demanded blood. "Kill him."

Cor left through another door to return to his Lich with the AI, as the two Special Ops Sangheili jumped down and prepared to attack Turok 'Moram.

He was in trouble. Quinn had kept running, but the Jiralhanae had picked up his trail and gained on him once again. He didn't have a chance if he kept running, and fighting him was suicide. So he took a third option.

Quinn wasn't very experienced at setting traps, but he had just enough time to cut away at a branch's bark, exposing the springy wood at the center. Then, he secured it with a tripwire made from a twine in his belt pouch, and set the knife in it.

This was a longshot at best, but it was in a place the Brute would no doubt pass through. But if it didn't work, he'd be weaponless and had lost too much ground to try any other trick. Quinn turned and ran as soon as he had his trap set. He'd only just made it up an embankment beyond it when he heard a snarl far behind him. Casting a fearful look over his shoulder at the beast that had just come into view, he continued to scramble up the sandy wall.

Then a cry of pain and shock broke over his ears. Spinning, he looked fearfully to his trap site.

Laid out on the ground, the Brute's chest was stained a deep purple color, the blade of the knife having gone in hilt-deep. Relief flooded over the trooper. After a moment spent catching his breath, he walked down and cautiously approached. The Jiralhanae still breathed, but made no move. Only stared fearfully at him. Quinn withdrew the knife, then drove it down into the monster's chest thrice, making sure it was dead.

With the last of the enemy's breath gone, he wiped the knife clean of blood by wiping it on the creature's matted fur. Briefly, he realized he was losing compassion for the enemy. Perhaps he'd never had any. After, he left it and continued on his trek, searching for a point to call for extraction.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 02:26, June 29, 2011 (UTC)

22
Commodore Garcia sat silently, leaning slightly against his side of the table. His left hand raised a delicate glass from the table, in which he sipped from, before returning the cup without paying it any notice. To his right, stood Ryder, and to his left, stood Riley. Garcia's eye's were fixed on the opposite end of the table, towards Follower, a red-eyed monitor, accompanied by two other similar AI. "I guess that I shouldn't have expected much as you to offer me a glass of champagne," the central monitor mused. Garcia smiled softly, taking another sip. "Well if figured that you had a mouth, I might have just done so." Garcia responded. Garcia opened hiss mouth again, but recoiled in order to contemplate his statement.

Garcia lowered his hand, gently, before releasing a sharp sigh. "So you are not wish to do us any harm?" Garcia queried. "My purpose is to ensure your survival. I would never do such a thing... purposely." the hologram responded. Garcia didn't ask what he had meant by "purposely", as he was obviously referencing the incident on Hope.

23
Torkamentov glanced at the clock as he managed to crisis. It looked like he was going to miss his meeting with this "Enforcer", although he supposed that he had a good excuse. turning his head, he said, "How long until we get those anti-boarding defenses back online?" The techie working feverishly glanced up and said, "A few more minutes. I have to switch to the backup AI system, since ours got stolen." Torkamentov turned towards the internal ship sensors. "Where is the Covenant bastard that stole our AI's?" "Sir, it looks like he's either headed back to the ship he came in on, or towards one of our escape pods." Torkamentov thought quickly, and issued the orders. "Alright. Do whatever you can to stop that Covenant son of a bitch. Depressurize the compartments in front of him if you have to. I don't want him getting off this ship."

"Admiral," said another techie, "We have a situation." Looking up, Torkamentov saw that a group of Covenant soldiers was approaching the bridge. He glanced over, and the techie working at the console said, "Just a few more seconds. Stall them if you have to." Torkamentov nodded, and got on the comm to the corridor outside. "You there. Yes, you in the corridor. I'm going to have to ask you to surrender immediately, or I'm going to be forced to kill you all." The elite in charge stared at the camera and laughed, then said, "And how are you going to do that human? I figure it is only a matter of time before we cut our way inside and kill you all." Torkamentov glanced at the techie, who nodded. He said, "Well, there's an ODST squad at the end of the hallway might have something to say about that." as the Covenant looked around, he yelled, "Now! Target all unknown life forms, except for our Enforcer friends." Across the ship, miniguns deployed from the ceiling on turrets, and began shooting rapidly at the Covenant boarders.

"Admiral. Before we started shooting, I noticed that there was a Covenant life form shooting at two other covenant life forms in the Engine Room. Should we leave him out?" Torkamentov nodded. "I suppose so. Wouldn't want to accidentally kill an ally." He checked the camera outside the door to see that all the Covenant previously there were either dead, or had fled the ship. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, "I have a meeting to attend." Torkamentov exited the bridge, stepping over the bullet-riddled bodies of the Covenant boarders who had tried to kill him. --Azecreth 19:14, July 5, 2011 (UTC)

24
The bulkhead door before him slammed shut, heavy metal plates locking to cut him off. Cor halted and snarled.

"Your intrusion has been halted." said a human voice. It was the Wrath's other artificial intelligence system. "Surrender the other programs immediately. Lay down your arms and you will be counted a Prisoner of War. If not, I am forced to terminate you."

Though the one Sangheili and pair of Unggoy with him looked up to find the source of the voice, Cor was too familiar with humans to suffer that moment of embarrassment. What's more, he was able to understand and even speak the human language.

"You should know that no Sangheili would dishonor themselves by giving in without fighting to the last." his mandibles formed a defiant smile. "However, I have a more appealing option."

With a flash, his wrist blades snapped on, their pale blue energy hissing. Cor sank them into the door, raw heat of plasma cutting through the titanium-A like butter. Once he'd cut a molten circle into the metal, he allowed his blades to retire as he drew the Focus Rifle. With quick aim, he let a long stream of orange energy burn through until there was an empty ring surrounded by the glowing metal.

He stepped through without consequence, and checked that the room had no targets before ushering through the others. One of the Unggoy burned its forearm on the slag, squealing in pain. Cor sealed his suit. The lack of violent response from human warriors worried him. It meant they were planning, and he hated when they did that. As he ran to the next lock, the wall suddenly opened up to the void of space.

Cor was fortunate. As the explosive decompression threw his companions into an airless expanse, his sealed suit and being in an alcove where the door was saved him. He did not worry about his escort, they were already lost. Cor struggled against howling wind, recovering from being thrown against a wall. Quickly, he scrambled to the door and opened it, then crawled inside and shut it behind him.

That had been too close. If the cold hadn't killed him, he would have floated freely, and the humans could have retrieved his body and the AIs at their leisure. He needed to ensure they wouldn't do something like that again.

And here was a perfect opportunity. A marine response team, coming to meet him. Slipping into active camouflage, he sank into the background and waited until they'd nearly passed him before striking, his blades quick, accurate, and lethal. In seconds, six marines became four, four became three, and three became one. Fear blossomed in the woman's eyes, raising her rifle only to have it slashed into two pieces by his wrist blade.

Many times stronger than his hostage, Cor pinned her arms behind her back, and began to move again towards his Lich. He didn't need to get the attention of the ship's active AI. He already had it.

An ODST pod. There were no life signs coming from inside, but the door was still sealed. Even if it meant the body of a dead trooper, Quinn's curiosity had to know what was inside.

Jumping down into the crater it had carved in the dirt, he noted the ceramic armor had been dented just about everywhere. This thing had taken a beating, but what was stranger still was the thick layer of clay and dirt on its outside. Usually, a SOEIV was just burned up. This one looked like it had been through a landslide.

Quinn realized it actually had. This probably landed on Hope's surface, and had been caught in the collapse. He found and hit the explosive bolts.

As it hissed, the trooper ducked under the door as it blew off its frame and soared into the jungle. Hesitantly, he looked inside.

It was a suit of SPARTAN armor. MJOLNIR Mark V(b).

Momentarily stunned, he realized the suit was empty. Most of it was in separate pieces thrown around the pod, but the helmet and chest were locked into the seat. He recognized the helmet. This was Riley's suit. He remembered that Riley had been wearing an ODST suit after returning from Hades, and a marine BDU the last time he'd seen him. Rowan must have sent down Riley's old armor in this second pod.

Quinn considered it for a moment. There was no way he could bring it with him, it weighed three times what he did. After a while, he placed a waypoint over the pod to find it later. This stuff was expensive, after all.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 03:34, July 6, 2011 (UTC)

25
As Torkamentov strolled toward the room where the meeting was being held, his radio crackled to life. "Admiral, this is the bridge. We have a situation." Torkamentov fumbled at his radio for a second, then pressed down the send button and said, "This is Torkamentov. What is it?" The response came over the radio. "The Covenant who stole our AI's, he's taken a hostage. We tried spacing him, but it seems he survived, and he took out most of the marine squad we sent in." Torkamentov sighed, and said, "What's he doing now?" The radio crackled, and out came, "He's still heading towards his boarding vessel. We're holding fire for now. What should we do?" Torkamentov paced down the hall as he thought. Finally, he came to a decision. "Shoot the bastard. Shoot him dead. I don't want him getting off this ship except in a body bag, if even that." He could almost hear the uproar on the bridge through the inactive radio. Finally, the radio crackled to life. "But, sir, the hostage?" "He knew what he signed up for when he joined the Corp. He vowed to give his life for the UNSC and for Earth. The information that those AI's have, if they ever get back to the Covenant, could very well lead to the destruction of Earth. So shoot. Now. That is a direct order."

With that, Torkamentov put his radio back on his belt, and strolled into the meeting room. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he found a seat, "I was dealing with a crisis." Turning to the Enforcer, he said, "Admiral Gingrich regrets not being able to be here, but he sent me in his place." --Azecreth 17:15, July 7, 2011 (UTC)

26
"I assure you that what had happened on Hope was not my doing." Follower claimed in a calm, soft tone. "In fact, it was your conflict with these races that caused planetary instability!"

"Us?" Riley interrupted, "I'd hardly say that we are at all responsible for this war." The monitor opposite of Riley hovered forward. "And we are only here to help."

"It would of helped if your kind hadn't killed just about every-living being on Hope!" Ryder growled under his breath, yet there was no doubt that the AI could hear him. Garcia looked up at Ryder with a somewhat angered look. After a momentary pause, Follower continued his rant.

"Two minutes and thirty-two seconds ago, our AI had eliminated had neutralized yet another Covenant warship on the offense. Much of the remainder of your fleet has been secured, and I think that you should know, you will endure the ensuing fight with us defending you."

Suddenly, a door on the side of the room had slid open. The entire party turned and watched as the security guard admitted Admiral Torkamentov into the meeting. Torkamentov slid his transmitter into his belt upon entering the conference. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he found a seat, "I was dealing with a crisis." Turning to the Enforcer, he said, "Admiral Gingrich regrets not being able to be here, but he sent me in his place."

The monitor merely hovered in place, its central red eye almost frightening. "Oh, this shall do. Is Admiral Gingrich well?" it asked, attempting to imitate true emotion. Torkamentov nodded, eyeing the floating sphere curiously. "Yes, um... He is at the helm, right now." Torkamentov said, getting into the diplomatic moodset. "Um, Garcia?" Torkamentov asked, turning towards the UNSC's representative. "Yes?" Garcia asked. "May I speak to you in private for a moment?"--  Chris  talk   blog  18:21, July 7, 2011 (UTC)

27
It was as good a spot as any to Quinn as he pulled himself over and onto the top of the ridge. A clear day, a good view of the surroundings, and his only chance of being seen by the UNSC. He turned on his helmet radio, looking skyward.

"This is Private Eirikur Quinn to any receiving UNSC unit. I am stranded on an unknown planet, requesting pick-up as soon as possible. Over."

No immediate response came, which was about expected. He sat down, realizing he might be here a while. He'd try repeating his message again in five minutes, and if that didn't work, five more minutes. As long as it took to get rescue.

"Shoot! Your orders are to shoot!"

Cor heard the command through the human marine's earpiece, not the one he held hostage, but the one staring him down at the other end of a gun. The human male, his patch reading Komoro in human script, stared him down icily, but against the shouts of his commander, held fire.

Evidently, they'd seen the value of three AI was more than one human's. This was wise of them, he'd seen them foolishly try to save every life before. As this human was doing.

Keeping his blade near the hostage marine's throat, he kept her between them as he edged around to the Lich's boarding tube. All the other Elites were dead, either by Komoro or Moore and his team.

Cor believed the weapon he held was an empty threat as long as a life hung in the balance. Now. . . with his back already in the safety of his ship, he no longer needed this one, whom he had used to save his life. . . for a moment, he thought he was becoming lax in his duty to destroy their kind. But if they would all die eventually, what did it matter?

He shoved the marine to the deck, and took his leave of the Wrath. The pilot turned in his seat and questioned where the others were, but Cor's only response was ordering him to disengage. The Lich floated away from the hull of the ship a moment before its engines kicked in, turning and accelerating the ship away.

The last surviving Phantom gunship took up a position on their wing, but was lost within moments, and the Lich engaged its impulse drive, escaping alone into the safety in reach of the Covenant flotilla.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 07:22, July 11, 2011 (UTC)

28
"The navigation core have been stolen!" Garcia stated in rage, his whispers loud and projecting. Torkamentov appeared just as disappointed. "Yes, I am afraid. As well as the defensive AI. I am afraid that we are sitting ducks in this battle. We are in no position to simply pass on their assistance, much less one to spark a vengeful conflict with them, Garcia." Garcia took Torkamentov's words into consideration. "Admiral." Torkamentov continued delicately and respectfully, as he almost had trouble coming to terms with Garcia's second, most recent promotion. "I am aware that this AI had chosen you as its bridge for establishing diplomacy, and you shall be its bridge. What it does once we allow it to pass that bridge comes later, but foreshadowing is an asset we simply don't have. I will not allow you to have us lose this battle... this war." Torkamentov stated with a hint of anger. Garcia paused. "I feel the same way, Torkamentov. I see that we must side with them, or at least for now. Either way, what they had done on reach shall not go unnoticed!" Garcia looked back through the glass, watching as Follower engaged his attendants in conversation. It took Garcia a moment to come to the realization that this thing wasn't just an AI, but something much more advanced. Something that was at least as capable as him in his prime. Garcia just hoped that it could be trusted in using its political ambition wisely. As Garcia turned back, his executive, Morgan caught his eyes. Andre sat wryly, his emotionless gaze set on Garcia, almost curious in nature, with a professional stance. Upon their eye's meeting, Andre took another sip of his drink, slowly turning back towards Follower. Something was up with him recently, and if only he had the time to ask what, he would do so.

Garcia and Torkamentov strode back into the room, now with everyone's eyes on them. Follower inched forward from his position. "Oh!" he exclaimed giddily, "I know that whatever the matter, it is really none of my business, but... If you require a helping hand, we would be more than happy to extend one to you!" Torkamentov shot Garcia a sharp glance, one which Garcia received out of the corner of his eye. Garcia nodded. "The situation is rather dire, and I feel as though I am speaking for everyone in this room in saying that I would like to accept your offer. Let me elaborate on the situation..."

He had not been speaking for everyone is his accepting Follower's offer. Ryder was amongst the first of the officers to leave upon dismissal. Ryder could imagine Garcia's discussion in his head, and knew that he wouldn't have taken any officer's shit when it came to the dealings. Ryder had a soft spot for civilians, and the unjustified death of every civilian on Hope could not go unaccounted for. He wouldn't have it, even if it meant that he went rouge. At first, Ryder didn't notice the immediate pat on the shoulder. "It's all for the best." Riley exclaimed. "There is a time for justice, and a time that you need to take all of the help that you are offered. It's all about playing your cards right... and maybe, they will be justifying some of the mistake of the other sentinels in the process. An act of penance."

Ryder shrugged. Deep down, he sort of appreciated Riley's advice. Somehow, he was wise beyond his years, or even Ryder's years. Riley was sort of a conscience. A wise little angel that would sit upon his shoulder and not just order him to accept what was right and wrong, but would elaborate why. Ryder smiled beneath his helmet, but by this time, Riley was gone. Riley was no angel. He was thoughtful and critical-minded, yet moral. He was like a mixture of Ryder and Matt, two polar opposites, yet best friends. Ryder couldn't exactly place his relationship with Riley. Suddenly, Riley began to seem a whole lot more enigmatic in his mind.

After the discussion, the halls seemed almost double as occupied by sentinels. Riley was surprised to see Matt, Morales and Ender as he rounded the next corner. They must have been waiting for him and Ryder. Ender acknowledged Riley with a friendly heads-up, and headed directly past him towards Ryder. Matt seemed to be engaged in an active conversation with another orange-eyed monitor, in which Riley could clearly make out the tense noise of clashing religions. Morales was reloading his weapon. Without even looking at Riley, he began speaking. "'Erd the sentinels are on our side now." Riley nodded, "You got that right. Let's not let this break us into a civil war now." Morales grunted, and then began chuckling. "Aw. That's exactly what I had in mind." "Yeah, well they are doing a good thing. Let's not spoil the act." Morales shrugged. "I hate how they cut our last attack plan short last time with this meeting shit. Let's not forget that our primary enemy is the Covenant, and that tensions are rising. Someone's gonna snap any moment. Hell the Covenant may have snapped already! You wouldn't believe the load of shit that I heard today about the Grapes' AIs being stolen..." Riley kept a straight face at this, and Morale's expression was no longer amused. "So they're coordinating with us in a full fledged assault... What do you think about this?" Riley made a "what can you do about it" face, cocking his assault rifle.--  Chris  talk   blog  03:33, July 12, 2011 (UTC)

29
"Look, sometimes you have to ask why stuff happens and there's no logical answer for. Early humans called it God. You're calling it your Creators?" Matt asked.

686 Innocent Shock levitated calmly. "Tell me one thing that you believe is influenced by your "God" and I'll give a logical answer."

"The creation of the animals on Earth." Matt stated almost instinctually.

Shock almost laughed, but decided not to in order to avoid offending Matt. "Evolution. Simple. Haven't you ever learned of that in your childhood?"

"I never went to a regular school when I was young..." Matt stated, looking down.

Shock wasn't too surprised. "Ah, because of a disorder?"

Matt looked up, his cheeks glowing a bright red. He was greatly offended, and Shock instinctually hovered back in defense. "I was kidnapped as a child, augmented, and transformed into a super-soldier, when do you thing that I would have gone to an normal-kid school, asshole?!" Matt then reclined against the wall and fell silent.

For once, Shock felt guilty. "Oh, dear me. I am quite sorry about that... If it is alright with you, I wouldn't mind continuing our conversation...

Matt took a moment, "Well what about the basics. There was a Tower of Babel... uh, Noah's Ark?"

"As yes, the Ark and the great Flood. Allow me to recount this tale-"

"Hey Matt. What's going on?" Ryder interrupted in a slightly forced cheery tone. "You okay, Ryder?" Matt asked. Tron appeared randomly again. The AI was a ghastly shade of white.

"Why do you bother talking to these mechanical shits?" Ryder silently and forcefully whispered as he pushed 686 out of the way. Shock hovered back in surprise. "I heard that, you know."

Matt shook his head in disappointment. "Ryder, you should know by know, I don't hate them."

Ryder looked surprised. "I know. But you heard it's remark about-!"

"I know. It was a mistake, Ryder. Unless you have any relatable input to this conversation, mind your own business."

Ryder fell back into the shadows

(will finish up later)---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 12:00, July 14, 2011 (UTC)

30
"Slipspace rupture off our bow!"

The UNSC Bright New Day slowly turned to face this possible threat. On the bridge, the assembled Spartans of Sigma Team were powerless against this unknown contact. Kane-099 sat at the helm, with his XO, Jax-007, tapping furiously at a console. Most of the few dozen crewmen lucky enough to have been on the ship when it escaped reach were either on the bridge, or in the firing control room with Marco-025, who had taken charge or manually firing the MAC.

"Chief, It's gonna pass right over us!"

It did. A single ship emerged, much smaller than the Frigate. Even from the Bridge, Kane could see that something was wrong as it passed over the top of the Bright New Day. Marco contacted him. "It'll take us a bit to align the MAC once we've turned, shall I fire?"

Sergeant Major Richard Mack Junior was already prepping Whiskey-04 for combat. The six-man ODST squad seemed riled up; they had been forced to babysit the ship since they had landed on Hope hours ago, and were itching for action. Mack put on his helmet and tapped it twice: a 'good luck' tradition by the Helljumpers. "Sir, the squad is ready for EVA Combat, if need be." The ODST had been serving as long as Kane, but still looked to the Spartan for orders.

Kane nodded, and turned back to the bridge crew. Martin-A136 was the only helmetless Spartan present, reading over the scrolling coordinates on his console. He sighed, obviously tired, before putting his helmet on. "The Ship is human. Belongs to ONI in fact." Despite it being human, the SPARTAN-II felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Strange, since Sigma had been reporting directly to them for the last 27 years.

Martin continued.

"We're also receiving a distress signal on an encrypted channel. The ship, the UNSC Heavens Asunder, is dead in space. Almost all systems are down."

Kane was actually impressed with the younger Spartan, being able to get into their channel.

"How do you know it's dead in space?"

"I looked out the window"

Both Spartans turned to look out of the bridge's large viewport. There, floating, illuminated only by the light of a nearby star, was the Heavens Asunder.

"Sergeant Major, I'm leaving you in charge, I'm taking Marco, Jax and two of your men in a pelican to check it out. If we get killed or any covvies show up, leave. That's an order". The ODST saluted and ran back towards the bridge. The four others entered the Hangar, where several Pelican dropships remained. Corporal Bell and Private Raikov had joined the Spartan-II's in their mission.

The Pelican took off, Jax piloting, and flew towards the smaller ship. The crew checked their weapons: Kane had foregone his usual Sniper for a Submachine gun, Jax had a shotgun, and Marco and the ODST's all had standard issue Assault Rifles. Raikov loaded his weapon before speaking. "I'm not sure about you, but doesn't this feel like the start of some horror flick?". Everyone laughed at this for a few seconds until their minds started digesting the information. No one spoke for the rest of the trip, until Jax announced they were nearing the airlock, snapping Kane out of thinking of ways to kill a seven-headed space monster.

After making sure their suits were sealed tight, the Pelican's rear door opened. Jax had handed controls over to Corporal Bell, and stood by Marco as he attempted to unseal the airlock. On their motion trackers, a single blip appeared. It was red: unknown or hostile. He glanced at the other Spartans, who had noticed it too. The indicator on the airlock flashed green and it whirred open. The three Spartans stepped inside, and the Pelican, piloted by the two ODST's, flew off.

The SPARTAN-II's raised their weapons as the red blip drew closer.

31
"Ah thank you very much," stated 086 Awakened Follower. "What?" responded Admiral Torkamentov.

"Oh. My Sentinels have located your ship's AI Construct. It appears to be on the Covenant Reverence-Class Cruiser Patient Devotion," he responded. "My Sentinels cannot recover it personally, but if you act with haste and send a strike force to recover it promptly I am sure it can be reclaimed."

"Well then it would not be wise to waste our opportunity, I will assemble a strike force at once," said the Admiral.

"Admiral Torkamentov, it would be a great honor for me to help assist this endeavor personally it has been a long since I have seen combat." Follower declared. Torkamentov appeared to be thinking.

"Excellent, I shall assemble a group of Sentinels to assist with the infiltration," Follower interrupted hastily, before he flew off to initiate the strike.--TehSpartan 21:14, July 16, 2011 (UTC)

32
Cor stalked the hallways of the Patient Devotion, walking through the prison blocks. He'd stared into the cell of one for several units after his return. Guarded by an impudent Unggoy named Rasaab, the human troops captor, one lay face down, mercifully unconscious after the punishment his body had endured. The flesh on his back had been torn and seared by plasma devices, and the scars would be slow to heal. The female among them had recently given birth, which made him wonder why she had been so close to the battlefield in such a condition. Perhaps it had been because of a lack of places to flee. The humans must be running out of those.

As the others crowded around her and the tortured man, a semblance of their unit identity still present, one particular one had stood opposite him behind the plasma barrier wall, staring him down and shielding the others from the sight of him. Bold, he thought, even when he knew his defiance could easily cost him his life.

Nothing had been gleaned from the AI he had captured. At least, not yet. Each had purged their stellar coordinate data long before he'd returned to the cruiser, and they had careful encryption on data the Covenant technicians had halted them from deleting. It could take time, and Cor found himself wondering how much of that they really had.

The Sentinel attack upon them had left the remaining half of the flotilla shaken. The holy constructs had fired upon them, for what reason was still unknown. Cor had never much cared for the Covenant's religion, the Sangheili fought, that was all he needed to know. Finding how they had provoked the Sentinels was to be left to the sect of battle-priests aboard. And then there was the matter of the heretic.

'Moram had slain Cor's lieutenants, he was sure of that, or they would have caught up with him aboard the Lich. 'Kedaree had not been assigned the task, but he was taking it upon himself to architect his demise. To do that, however, he had to know the next moves of the three factions: the Humans, the Sentinels, and his own Covenant masters. And to that end, he would have to talk to the exalted Huragok, Lower than Few.

Night was approaching for Quinn on the planet's surface. He was glad of his suit's insulation, it would keep him warm and dry for the jungle night. He hadn't encountered any predators so far, and he doubted any would be as fearsome as the Jiralhanae he'd killed. Sending out his radio message one more time, he settled in to sleep, and start broadcasting again in the morning.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 06:16, July 17, 2011 (UTC)

33
"Alright boys and girls." Moore said as he approached Shouji and his new team of ODSTs who were replacing his dead squad of whom he and Shouji were the only survivors. "We are going to raid some covie ship the 'patent devilish' or some shit like that. We are boarding in five strike teams: India, China, Korea, Singapore, and Japan. We are strike team Korea and are boarding in the a small hangar bay. The other teams are boarding through other hangars or making their own entry points through explosives. Each team consists of around thirty men and those floating robo guys who are now with us. All of you losers following? No offense Shouji that comment wasn't directed at you."

"None taken." Shouji calmly said.

"Now we are taking these two pelicans." Moore said pointing to a pair of pelican dropships painted pitch black with a three gun rotary gauss cannon in the place of the chin gun. "Any questions?"

"Sir what happens when we get inside?" Asked one ODST, a corporal raising his hand with a bandolier of shotgun shells across his chest.

"Well, strike teams China, and India are going to find our AIs and secure the bridge. Korea, Singapore, and Japan are going to help cleanse the ship and cause a distraction. Our sentinels can hack into the network of the ship, as it would turn out command has a plan to use our floating eyeball thingys to take over the ship and use it against the enemy so we got our work cut out for us."

"So we do the hard work cleansing the ship while the other teams rescue the AIs and get all the credit for saving overpriced computer chips?" Asked the same corporal.

"Yep." Moore said. "You just have to love your job sometimes huh? Now get in the bird and let's do this." With this Moore picked up his assault rifle and led his team into the bird, sitting down he waited for command to give the go order where the other ships would leave the bay and board the Covenant warship. Foxtrot12 01:38, July 18, 2011 (UTC)

34
086 Awakened Follower drifted down towards the Hanger Bay from which the assault would launch.

"Ah you must be Moore," said Follower to the Human ODST's apparent commander.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" the human replied

"Greetings I am 086 Awakened Follower Monitor of this ..." Follower was cut off.

"Yeah, Yeah," interrupted Moore "Men this is the 'ight bulb that will command the sentinels."

"Well I would hardly call myself a light bulb." Follower retorted. "But I am here to assist you with the combat and give you tactical updates on the other teams."

"Before your team enters the ship, my Sentinels will hack the defenses mechanisms near your entry point. Please note that we cannot keep them inactive forever and if you are too slow you will be shot down."

"Brilliant." said an ODST whose Nameplate read MacArthur.

Moore shrugged. "Okay. We figured that we were gonna bomb the hangar open, but you've had more experience. You heard the light bulb men, let's move."--TehSpartan 00:14, July 21, 2011 (UTC)

35
"I know what your thinking, and it's crazy." Matt exclaimed, hauling the final crate of c12 explosive into the rear-end of Battlegroup Japan's longsword interceptor. Riley chuckled softly. "Isn't it obvious. Garcia said to get creative."

Matt shrugged, "I'd tell you that the loss of an entire battlegroup of Spartans isn't a light burden to carry, but you won't have to... 'cause you'll be dead too." Matt turned to Ryder. "Hey man. You agree too, right?"

"God, I've been through ten times the danger. Either way, you can't override my decision, no matter how many "opposes" you get." Riley replied. Matt shrunk back into the seat closest to the exit. "But I'm a chief, and I think Ryder's the same as you... so together, that equals, like... crap! Ryder, we're the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy!"

Riley and Ryder smirked at that statement. Deep down, however, the two were dismayed. Knowing Matt, he could have very well been serious. "Nah, t's better than letting those machines have all the fun."

Riley turned back to face the rest of the team, which was composed primarily of marines in vacuum suits. Apparently, three sentinels were joining for supervisional purposes, in maintaing communications and ensuring coordination. Two familiar faces stood out from the group of marines, Miranda Lopez and Randy Campbell, the two officers who were rescued from Hades a while back.

Riley silently cleared his throat. "For those of you who don't remember the plan, we're piloting this rigged hunk of junk right into the head of that cruiser." Riley said, patting the hull of the vessel. Ryder spoke up, trying to sound confident on the mission. "We may be Japan, but we ain't no kamikaze. We leap out the back a good fifteen-seconds early and liberate whatever decks we can, hopefully, the bridge too." Riley climbed in, as Ryder signaled the rest of the team in.

Riley sighed and claimed his seat besides Morales, who was wearing the same enhanced BDU. "It's a go?" Morales asked, looking to Riley, who merely nodded. "You bet. Rev up the engines." The back of the longsword was silent, as though they figured this to be their death sentence. Riley kept from rolling his eyes. The jump would be easy, but the infiltration... He knew well enough that any day could be his last, and in the open cross-fire that this would be, he couldn't be certain that they were even gonna make it to the target.

As Riley finished his sentence, the interceptor began rolling from the hangar, and immediately swerved directly upwards, beginning it's ascent around the vessel, surrounded by a group of tightly-packed sentinels and a single enforcer, which soon turned back to engage a banshee. Two pelicans immediately came into view.

"This is First Sergeant Dennis Moore, we have a visual on you." Riley knew Moore from Hope. Riley kept getting the feeling that he was halving a family reunion throughout the past few days. Riley reached out for the comm before Morales could do so, and spoke into it. "T's good to see you alive, Moore. It's Riley-G311 here." It took Moore a second to recall. "Hey Riley, hows the team?"

"We all made it out. I'm squad leader now." Riley replied. "That's good. I think we're engaging!" Moore veered-off, caught in a tangle with two sabres. Morales swept over and Riley assisted, immediately bombing the first Sabre. Before he could turn back, however, a burning banshee collided with the underside of the cockpit, and began sliding down. The craft swayed to the right. What a coincidence, it seemed that the Covenant were launching another attack, exactly as they were. This was going to be interesting.

36
Angel was nervous about letting Bravo 029 run the gauntlet with the rest of the assault group, its repairs still not complete, and even if they were, unable to withstand the firepower of a Covenant capital ship. But the array of new Sentinel allies taking point counted for something.

Alarms blared as they came within the known range of the cruiser's guns. Ignoring it and keeping her ship on a steady course took nerves of steel, but she forced herself to do so and spoke into her com, "Okay, we're about to get some turbulence. Let the Sentinels take the hit while they hack into their battle net, it'll be our job from there."

Staring out across the gap they were closing, tiny points of blue light formed on the Covenant ship's laterals, and around the UNSC craft a line of Sentinels moved to defend them by putting metal between them.

Quinn had woken from his slumber, but hadn't dared move. Some subconscious connection of his senses told him he was not alone here. He couldn't hear or see anything in the forest around him, but he knew beyond doubt something was nearby. His primal instincts feared the worst, creating images of dark, alien creatures. Something hostile.

He'd killed a Brute with his knife and ingenuity alone, but there was more to a battle than that. This was fear, something he wasn't easily able to fight against. Laying still, listening to his heart beat and the rattle of leaves that could have hid a sign of something, he waited until he felt it was the right moment, then scrambled over the ridge.

The drop wasn't long, he tucked and rolled as he landed in the dirt collected at the bottom, and as soon as he could got back on his feet and ran. He looked once over his shoulder back to where he'd been, and saw his fears confirmed by a huge, dark silhouette with its claws dug into the edge of the cliff, watching him. As Quinn continued running, he realized he'd thought seeing what it was and knowing it would make him fear it less. In this case, it didn't.

"All hands to battle stations!" roared the Shipmaster over the SHIPCOM. Cor needed no such urging.

He'd been ordered to guard the prison blocks, having just concluded his exchange of information with the Huragok, but he'd abandoned his post. They weren't coming here for the prisoners. They wanted their AI back, and Cor was personally more than willing to let them have them. The Shipmaster, though, had posted a number of Sangheili and a Mga'lekgolo pair in the particular chamber, and plenty of security teams between.

Cor went for the security control room. He needed access to the monitoring cameras. If 'Moramee was on one of those vessels and made it aboard, Cor would be first to respond to it. If not, the demons that must have also been dispatched would make a good consolation.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 02:20, July 24, 2011 (UTC)

37
Eoj 'Labasee had failed.

A swarm of Sentinels had overpowered them, killed 'Thaedee, and stolen their Luminary. The Ultra sat aboard the Glorious Ascendance, silently scolding himself.

A plasma rifle fell into the Elite's lap. 'Labasee looked up to see his friend Iun 'Atamee looking at him.

He tossed the gun aside. "Leave me be, brother. I am a disgrace."

"I shall not," 'Atamee snorted. "Not when there is a Luminary to find."

A.O.A. ~ Semper Fi, Do or Die.

38
Juliet silently held on to Ryder the whole trip. Riley looked back, smiled at Ryder (who gave an equally satisfied smile) and turned back to talk to Morales about the lovebird's budding relationship.

Matt and Tron silently told Ender their odds of survival. "My theory is that we'll make on to the ship, and someone's gonna either join up with us or someone here is going to die." Ender nodded, fascinated by this huge Spartan's opinion. Matt may be a huge hulking beast, but he's a huge hulking beast with a brain, and that is what makes the Spartan-II's so renown among the UNSC. Tron turned and seeming stood silently. Matt nodded, "Good observation, Tron."

Ender was confused. So many things running through his head. First, Ryder, the man who himself said he'd never fall in love, has fallen in love. Second, these floating eyeballs things are our allies, yet Ender sensed some tension between both fractions. Then their was Turok, the Elite who seemly joined up with us. Now, Matt can hear AI that don't make sound? Ender was lost.

"Oh, right, you can't hear Tron. He said there a 90% chance we'll never make to the Covenant ship. With a normal Marine pilot. Tron, remember what Morales is. He's my predecessor," Matt said with a smile.

Ender nearly jumped up with excitement. "Morales is a Spartan-I? That's incredible! Who told you that?" Ender asked with excitement. Matt smile widened. "Morales himself."

"That's so cool." Ender sighed, waiting for the real action to start.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 12:44, July 27, 2011 (UTC)