User:Spartan 501/Installation 04: What If/Chapter Two: Halo

September 19, 0312 Hours, 2552

Threshold System, Surface of Unidentified Ring-like Object

A weak drizzle rained down on the elevated plateau, wetting the grass and adding to the roaring waterfalls, which cascaded off the elevated ground with a muffled roar. In the sky, the dawn was just now beginning, and the sunrise covered the already red cliffs and rolling hills with a dull orange glow. Threshold, the gas giant, hung low in the sky, dominating the view of space. The ground was an orange-coated mosaic of dull greens and browns, and the cliff walls were red rock painted with orange and yellow smears. The sky was still a dark blue, but it was slowly growing lighter. Small bugs, glowing green and drifting in the wind, flowed through the air, and the whole environment whistled with the sounds of nature.

A low roar appeared in the distance, and all across the plateau, animals and aliens alike looked skyward. A fiery red comet traced its way down the sky and streaked towards the Cliffside—only this was no comet. It was a spacecraft.

“We’re coming in too fast!” called Cortana

Inside the Bumblebee lifeboat, the Master Chief gripped the interior hull so tight it bent and rippled—his own private reaction to their situation. Up ahead, the Cliffside loomed—if they were to land and survive, they would have to not go over it. In the pilot seat, the aviator of the craft yelled in frustration as she battled her controls.

“Damn, airbrake failure, they blew too early!”

Dull thumps permeated the hull of the lifeboat and the craft lurched as the four diagonally placed braking flaps snapped off from tension, one by one. The craft lurched yet again, and the pilot madly typed in commands on her side mounted board.

“I’m losin her…brace for impact!” yelled the pilot, and Chief gazed out the front hatch.

The ground rapidly came up to meet them—then they connected with a bone jarring crash. Chief flew forward, knocked his head against the inside of his helmet…then all he saw was darkness.

“Chief, chief can you hear me!?”

The Master Chief slowly woke from unconsciousness. As his eyes opened, he scanned the lifeboat, and was horrified but not surprised to find the bodies of the marines and the pilot slumped over in their chairs, dead from the impact. His muscles ached from the bone jarring crash, and he could feel a cut on his forehead bleeding, but his training instantly asserted itself, preventing him from mulling over his injuries. Move. Fight. Live.

“At last, your all right. Can you move?” asked Cortana, worry in her voice, but also sadness.

The Chief pulled himself up from where he had fallen and slumped over the lifeboat to answer her question, and spun himself around to face the craft’s exit.

“The others—the impact—there’s nothing you can do” she told him, the worry gone, but sadness still present.

He scanned it, and saw it had been blown or forced open—the hatch was nearby. The bodies of three marines had been thrown from their seats and strewn across the ground—one of whom Chief recognized as the young soldier he had saved in the lifeboat. He tried to ignore the youth’s ragged and bloody face, now facedown in the dirt. An ample amount of supplies and weaponry had been thrown across the ground directly behind the pod, where a long impact streak stretched across the ground. Chief spotted a M7S, a M6D, an MA5B/S-II, but most importantly: a M19-D AA Missile Launcher, a weapon that he knew, from experience, had the firepower to bring down a spirit dropship, even a heavily armed one like the Type-88 Heavy Armament Spirit. Chief moved slowly out of the pod, and guessed that the pods weapons locker had broken open during the crash. He moved straight to the M19-D, and grabbed it. He checked the barrel and confirmed the weapon was loaded, then grabbed a nearby extra rocket for extra ammo. He attached the weapon to his back and strapped the rocket to his thigh, before moving back towards the pod.

There, he procured a MA5B/S-II, along with ten extra clips of ammunition, which he slid into holders in his MJOLNIR. He grabbed four frags off the ground, and attached them to his other thigh, where they would be an easy reach. He turned to the bodies to pull them back into the pod, but Cortana spoke up.

“Warning, I’ve detected multiple Covenant dropships on approach, which appear to be Type 88s, not standard Spirits. I recommend moving into those hills—if were lucky, the Covenant will believe that everyone aboard this lifeboat died in the crash.” She told him, and he scanned the area.

The lifeboat had crashed only a few meters from the drop-off of the plateau, and the Chief knew he wouldn’t be able to escape that way, unless he wanted to pulp himself on the ocean and land below. Directly behind the pod, the land moved forward away, and a waterfall cascaded down from the ridge, but the high walls would provide no escape.

However, to the right of the pod, in the hills Cortana suggested, the Chief saw a slit in the red canyon walls—his exit. Between him and the area though, was a chasm over a waterfall. Chief approached anyway, and found what appeared to be some sort of conduit, crossing the gorge. It was made of heavily tarnished and engraved metal, and was a striking silver. It featured no handrails, but looked sturdy enough for Chief to cross. He stepped onto it gingerly at first, but then broke into a full run, crossing it quickly. He had to find cover quickly.

As he reached the end, he heard the signature whine of a Covenant dropship cutting through the sound of the falls and the rain. He dropped to a crouch as the dropship swooped directly over him, tracking it with his assault rifle. He noticed it was a deeper purple than the standard craft—definitely a Heavy Spirit. The dropship swooped low up ahead and performed a quick turn, looping back towards the pod. Over his comm, Cortana saw fit to speak up.

“Warning, Covenant air support inbound. They must be looking for survivors—I recommend immediate evasion.”

The chief scanned ahead and saw a pair of Banshee fliers emerge from his hopeful exit. They swooped towards the dropship, then peeled off and scanned the surrounding area. He only had seconds before he was discovered.

In a few moments, the Chief played out the entire situation in his head. There was the dropship, likely loaded with troops, directly to his right flank. In addition, the Banshee fliers were now streaking towards him, unaware of his presence, but soon to realize it. He could tackle a Banshee with an assault rifle, but with the dropship putting heavy weapons fire on him and infantry advancing, he would soon be overwhelmed. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to eliminate elements from the situation.

Chief slung his assault rifle and grabbed the M19-D. He swung around and waited for the dropship to come to a stop behind him, and then sighted through the integrated 5x tactical scope. The dropship jumped forward, and he put his finger on the trigger, keying off the safety. He put a bead on the troop bay, the biggest target, waited half a second, then let the missile fly.

The rocket streaked towards the spirit, letting a plume of gray smoke balloon behind it like a vapor trail. It smacked into the dropship with a dull red explosion, then the Spirit detonated in a ball of blue flame and plasma. Bodies from the troops inside fell from the air, and the destroyed hulk of the dropship fell from the sky and smacked into the ground with a sound that reverberated through the small canyon.

Above, the banshees abruptly changed direction and headed straight for him. The lead banshee let loose a fuel rod gun, and Chief rolled to dodge and let loose a series of short bursts from his assault rifle. As the flier closed, the reticule for Chief’s weapon shrunk, and formed a closed circle. Chief opened fire full auto, and the flier looped away, trailing smoke and issuing sparks.

He wasn’t done yet though. The other banshee rose fell towards him, firing it’s cannons. Blue bolts of heat splattered across Chief’s shields, and a shrill alarm filled his helmet. He open fired on the banshee, and burned through three clips of ammo as it got closer to him. It continued its dive, firing, and finally sent Chief dashing for cover as his shields dropped completely. It banked past him, then looped around for a second pass: only to reach a wall of gunfire as it passed into his most effective range. It detonated in a balloon of blue gas, and Chief refocused on the other banshee, putting a dozen controlled bursts into it’s fuselage. It finally detonated in blue fire, and fell past him, over the Cliffside.

Chief checked his ammo; he only had 420 rounds remaining, besides the clip in the weapon. The banshee fight had taken considerable resources. However, he finally had some space to maneuver. The chief turned and headed west, or at least what his rifles compass told him was west. He ran up a large hill, reloading the M19-D while he did so, and took in the beauty of his surroundings. He eventually climbed the hill, and found a wall of grey boulders blocking his path. There was a small opening however, which he moved through, only to see more trouble.

A half dozen covenant troops patrolled the area, an elite and a small group of grunts. In the open, he could be cut down if he advanced too much. However, without a longer ranged weapon like the battle rifle, his effectiveness was limited.

Chief opened fired with his assault rifle as if on semi-auto, pulsing the trigger and firing rapid individual shots. He gunned down a grunt and then moved forward, to a smaller boulder just ahead. From cover, he watched as the remaining grunts rushed out to greet him. He opened fire on them, taking two at range and then another at so close that his reticule shrunk. The last grunt tried to flee, only to get a back full of lead.

The elite moved from cover, firing with it’s weapon. Bolts of heat slammed into Chief, and his shields drained. He got off a burst of ten rounds, but the creature dodged back into cover, behind a bushy tree. But Chief was still kicking. He tossed a frag grenade, saw the alien leap from cover, and moved from his own spot, opening fire. He hosed the elite with bullets, cut through it’s shield, then stepped up to it and brought his rifle down on its chest. The elite staggered back, and Chief unloaded the remainder of his clip—17 rounds—into the bastards chest. It dropped.

The chief pasued and stripped grenades off a few of the grunts, then slid a new mag into his rifle. He let his shields recharge, then ran towards the break in the canyon walls. He hopped down a short drop off, slid, and turned left, to the northwest.

As he ran around a corner of the high walled passage, Cortana spoke up over his helmet.

“I’m reading a SOS beacon over the next hill,” she informed him. “We should check to see if there are any survivors.”

Chief agreed silently and pressed around the side of the wall, as he drew closer to a NAV marker Cortana had placed on his screen, he took in a scene of carnage. A Covenant dropship hovered low to the ground, and Grunts and Elites were pouring from it. A large silver structure, made up of an elevated base and a tower that shots periodic beams into the sky, lay behind it, and marine forces were on the ground and on top of it, firing at dismounting Covenant troops and at the dropship. Above the sound of the combat, Chiefly also dimly heard the sound of a BR55-M45.

The Covenant dropship rose as it let loose all of it’s troops, and it’s main cannon fired—a blast of purple and pink energy with the same force as a Wraith tank’s main gun. This was another Type-88. He didn’t know why there were so many, but wondered if the presence of the twenty plus SPARTANs had anything to do with it. From the blast of the main weapon however, a marine went flying, his legs and half his chest burned away. He didn’t even scream.

As the dropship rose, Chief got a clearer view of the area. Four UNSC personnel stood on the ground, firing at the Covenant infantry. On the structure, more had erected a defensive position—they had dragged six M235 Defensive Machine Guns onto the structure and placed them at places where they had a good field of fire. These were crewed by marines, and seemed to be protecting a pair of Naval Crewmen, who, still dressed in their white uniforms, were cowering up top.

Chief jumped towards the dropship, opening up with his MA5B/S-II in an attempt to draw fire. It worked. A purple blast ballooned next to him and his shields dropped to a hairbreadth. A loud warning light filled his helmet, and he saw an elite rush him, plasma rifle in hand. It leveled it’s weapon, and chief was powerless to stop it.

The triple crack of a Battle Rifle filled the air.

The elite dropped, missing half it’s head. From behind cover, a green armored figure stepped forward; Malcolm, shields blazing from a plasma pistol bolt.

There was no time for thanks, not with a half dozen covenant still around. Chief rolled as a bolt singed the air near him, and he pivoted and fired a full auto burst of fire at a pair of grunts, dropping them. Malcolm and the marines combined fire to drop an elite, then shifted to individual targets and felled the remaining enemies, a group of grunts.

A chorus of cheers echoed from the marines, and one wearing a bandanna stepped up next to Master Chief.

“Thank god sir, I thought we were in big trouble.”

Another marine, the black sergeant from onboard the Pillar of Autumn, approached the chief. He held his assault rifle loose by his side. In the corner of his eye, Chief saw Malcolm slip away and find a firing position. There’d be time for talk in a minute.

“It’s a mess here sir. We’ll called for evac, but even with your SPARTAN here, before you showed up I thought we were cooked.” Said the black sergeant.

Chief recognized him from elsewhere—he had been aboard an orbital station at Reach with his squad and had destroyed a data crystal containing the coordinates of Earth. He linked up with the Pillar of Autumn after piloting a Pelican off of the station. Chief and his squad had helped him offload his injured.

“Don’t worry sergeant, we’ll stay here until evac arrives.” Comforted Cortana.

Over the comm, Malcolm’s voice crackled loud and clear.

“Heads up, Heavy Dropship on approach!”

Chief broke away from the sergeant and headed to the top of the structure. He sprinted up and ramp and observed the area in the blink of any eye; beyond him was a small complex, with a series of pipes to his right and an elevated platform to his left, which was not quite as tall as the structure he stood on. In the center, the burning wreckage of a UNSC Pelican lay across the ground, where the dropship had crashed. He then headed for the northwest corner—where he spotted a variety of weapons, which had been thrown on the ground. He watched out of the corner of his eye as a dropship fired it’s main gun then dropped with a cloud of blue, it’s energy core punctured by the combined machinegun fire of the marines.

He sprinted to the armory area and swapped his MA5B/S-II for a BR55-M45, glad to have the extra range that the rifle allotted. He also found an extra rocket for the M19-D—which he promptly attached to his thigh. Another dropship swooped in low to the east and came to a stop, and Chief downed it with another missile. He was burning through the rockets, but he couldn’t take any chances—the dropships heavy gun could devastate the marine’s fixed position in moments if it decided to stick around and strafe after unloading its troops. Plus, he didn’t relish the thought of having to contend with waves of Covenant ground troops.

Another Type 88 streaked in from the east, and flashed around the northwest side and looped around behind the structure. Chief pivoted to track it, but didn’t dare let off a missile, lest he waste one. Over the comm, a marine called for help.

“Uh-oh, another bandit, dropping in behind us, their trying to flank us!” he cried, and Chief turned his missile to craft.

It saw him, or at least he though it did. As it lowered from the sky, its main cannon flashed, and Chief was thrown to the side, shields down and internal temperature high and rising. The plasma cooled and evaporated, and Chief struggled to resteady his aim.

He couldn’t aim in time, and the spirit dropped below his sights. It’s troop bays hissed open, and grunts and an elite poured out. Below him, he heard Malcolm open fired with his battle rifle, as a marine next to him let loose wildly with his assault rifle. Chief drew his BR55-M45 and dropped down from the platform next to Malcolm, lessening his fall by bending his knees. He signaled to the other SPARTAN quickly. Malcolm clicked his comm in a confirmation reply.

The gunners up top focused their fire on the grounded dropship, and their efforts paid off—as the craft started to rise, rounds penetrated it’s plasma cores and it fell back to the ground. Meanwhile, Malcolm flanked left on Chiefs orders and Chief himself moved right, onto the ramp. They moved around the area, circling the Covenant. Then, when they were both in position, they let loose a salvo of grenade fire. The aliens were flung wildly, and then the two of them moved in, executing the rest with BR fire. Chief glanced at his motion tracker and noticed a single contact move directly over his position, very large. He sprinted for the tower, climbed the ramp, and saw a marine firing his turret. He glanced left, and saw another Heavy Spirit, already landed and dispersing it’s troops.

From it, he saw not only Grunts and Elites dispersing, but also Jackals—their signature energy shields glowing. Malcolm would deal with those for the time being—he had to get that dropship. He unlimbered his M19-D, checked to make sure the final rocket was in it, and sighted on the dropship’s cabin, then fired.

As the craft started to rise, the missile streaked towards it. For a moment the chief wondered if it would miss—streak past underneath. But instead, it clipped the bottom of the cabin and detonated, throwing the cockpit higher in the air while the troop bays fell to the ground. Chief dropped the empty M19-D and grabbed an M7S from the small armory—its small size and high fire rate was the perfect companion to the BR55-M45. Another dropship swooped in, and the chief sprinted for a vacant turret. He jumped on, and open fired on the spirit as it landed. More marines joined him, and the dropship detonated on the ground, without ever lifting off. Nevertheless, troops ran from it’s bay—jackals forming a shield wall, and grunts working as canon fodder.

As the Covenant pressed in, the Malcolm and the marines took cover on the structure, using it’s walls as barriers between them and the Covenant plasma. Chief ditched the turret and open fired from next to Malcolm with his battle rifle—helping to decimate the Covenant group. Resistance was stiff, but with the high-ground and Malcolm at his side, Chief was able to lead the marines and beat back the Covenant troops. As they ran, the two SPARTANs shot them in the back at range.

Finally, it was mostly quiet, and a signal came through over the comm.

“This is Pelican now designated as Echo-419, is anybody reading me? I repeat, any UNSC personnel respond.”

Cortana was quick to reply to their only chance at escape.

“I read you Echo-419, this is Fireteam Charlie, is that you Foehammer?” she asked, and Chief wondered how Cortana knew the pilot.

“Roger Fireteam Charlie, good to hear from yah” the pilot announced.

“If you're not too busy, Foe Hammer, we could use a lift. We have survivors to transport to the Command Shuttle, including SPARTANs 117 and 059.” Continued Cortana

“On my way.” Replied Foehammer.

A low roar filled the air, and the Chief looked up and too the left—and saw a pair of Bumblebee life pods flying out of control towards the ground.

“Look, definitely more lifeboats, coming in fast.” Cortana confirmed “If those lifeboats make it down, the Covenant are going to be right on top of them.”

Even as she spoke, the lifeboats soared overhead and passed over the canyon walls—out of sight. However, Foehammer was now in view, as she came in for a landing. Her VTOL jets flared and she settled nearly to the ground, and chief noticed her Pelican was not of the standard variety—it carried four rocket pods and two chainguns, as well as being coated with yellow stripes. On the back, a hog dangled via magnetic clamps.

“Foehammer, we need you to disengage your Warthog. The SPARTANs and I are going to see if we can save some soldiers.” Said Cortana over an open comm.

“Roger that Charlie Team, Warthog deployed.” Confirmed Foehammer as she dropped the hog. “Saddle up and give em hell.”

“Roger Foehammer, stand bye to evac survivors and transfer them to safety.” Said Cortana

“That’s affirmative. Echo 419 staying on station, Foehammer out.” Said Foehammer as she eased her heavily armed Pelican closer to the ground. She halted as the marines piled on.

Malcolm clambered into the hog, and the Chief floored the gas pedal. Chief saw the hog didn’t carry the standard M41 LAAG—it featured a long, tube like design instead.

Malcolm was apparently also confused. “What is this thing?” he asked.

“M68 Gauss Cannon.” Replied Cortana

“Like a mini-MAC right?” asked Malcolm

“Indeed.” Cortana replied

Chief swung the hog around, and drove it towards a slope that he assumed would lead to an exit. So far, this canyon seemed very linear, with only a single way in and out. He didn’t much like that. As they approached the bottom of the slope, Chief turned right and was greeted by something he did not expect in the least. A tunnel loomed up at him, but not a natural one. This tunnel was made out of engraved silver metal, with patterns everywhere across it.

“This is not a natural formation.” Stated Cortana.

The Chief put his awe behind him and steered the hog into the tunnel. It easily permitted the light terrain vehicle. As the chief maneuvered through the tunnel, Cortana began to speak over his TEAMCOMM, so Malcolm could hear.

“I’ve hacked into the Covenant battle net. They’re actually broadcasting tactical data on unencrypted channels! We should show them who their dealing with. Master Chief, I’m going to use you system’s transponder system to monitor their chatter.” She informed him, and Chief didn’t see any reason to object. After a minute or so of driving, the Master Chief reached a small chasm. He backed up the hog and revved it over the jump, crossing it with room to spare. He fishtailed the hog right, around a sharp turn, then turned left.

As the hog came to a stop, Master Chief looked out beyond the tunnel. In front of him, the passage ended, though he could see it re beginning in the distance. In front of him, a large open space stood. A chasm bisected the area, and separated the other tunnel from his side. A slightly elevated ramp continued on straight ahead, while two lowered areas stood on the right and left.

“Sir, targets spotted.” Whispered Malcolm from behind him, and Chief then spotted them too. A single grunt meandered down the middle path, while more of his kind stood off to the left area. On the right, the Chief spotted a group of mixed grunts, jackals, and elites.

“Looks like we get to test that Gauss cannon.” Muttered chief “Malcolm, hang on, target rightmost hostiles until ordered otherwise.”

“Yes sir master chief.” Said Malcolm.

Chief revved the hog and barreled down into the main road in the center of the chamber. The grunt in the middle turned to the sound of the hog—then screamed and died as the vehicle slammed into it’s body. Behind him, Malcolm open fired with the gauss cannon—drilling a cluster of jackals behind them dead center. Their bodies flew ten meters, then lay still. The steady thump-thump of him firing filled the cockpit, and chief turned sharply to the right and rammed straight into an elite, who crumpled under the hogs frame. Chief spun the hog to the right again, and drove up the middle road—then down again, right into the cluster of grunts milling around of the left side.

Malcolm gunned all three down individually, then they were driving back over to the other side. Malcolm sent pieces of a grunt flying and chief made roadkill of a jackal, then they stopped firing. Everything was quiet. Chief drove the hog up to the chasm, and looked across it. No way across, not visible at least.

“There must be some mechanism to get us across.” Said Cortana “Look for a switch or control panel.”

Chief decided to do an on foot search. He climbed out of the hog.

“Stay here.” He ordered Malcolm.

“Yes sir.” Malcolm replied. Their was frustration in his normally even tone.

The master chief hiked backwards, toward the right side of the room. More covenant had been stationed their, so he supposed it was as good a place to start as any. He scanned the walls finding nothing—then glanced at what appeared to be an entrance, cut out of the metal. Chief approached it warily, his battle rifle out. As he came closer, he saw it was really a ramp upwards. He glanced back at Malcolm, then at the ramp. He began to walk up it, and drew his SMG. He came the top of it, and found a corner waiting for him. He slid around the left turn—and took a plasma bolt to the face.

Chiefs shields dropped, and he slid back behind cover. More bolts of the superheated gas splashed across the wall in front of him, but it strangely did not melt, only singed a bit. He stuck his battle rifle out the corner, and open fired. He fired slowly, trying to get a hit. He finally did, and he heard the alien curse. He then squeezed a grenade off, and he heard the alien scream as fire enveloped it. He slid around the side, and shot it once in the head. It wheezed and dropped.

The Master Chief advanced, and crossed a long catwalk. At the end of it, he found what appeared to be a holographic control panel. He touched it—it was solid.

Who the hell made this place? He thought to himself.

Chief looked long and hard at the symbols, wondering which to push. Finally, he began to give up—let his mind wander. In that moment, one of the symbols seemed to call to him. He pressed on it.

In front of him, he saw narrow metal beams extend—two from either side. The whole room hummed with electricity, and static crackled across his skin. The beams glowed, and across the chasm, light filled the air. Chief watched as Malcolm got down from the hog, and walked forward. He fired a battle rifle burst into this strange bridge of light, which stopped. It didn’t bounce off, but rather stayed in place, like it was a wall. Malcolm gingerly put one foot down on it, then two. He walked away from it, and returned to the hog.

“Sir, its solid.” Said Malcolm

“Copy. Hold position I’m on my way.” Replied the Chief

Chief walked back across the catwalk and down the ramp. He ran to the hog and climbed into the drivers seat. He drove the hog across it, as fast as possible. Even with Malcolm’s assurances that it was solid, the distance felt like miles.

The hog left the light bridge quickly behind, and Master Chief turned into another set of tunnels. As he did this, Cortana spoke to him and Malcolm.

“There’s new traffic on the Covenant battle net. A lot more crew made it off the Autumn than I had predicted—the Captain really gave them hell. If we can find Captain Keyes, the rest of the SPARTANs, and the other survivors, we have a chance to coordinate an effective resistance.”

Chief continued to maneuver the hog through the narrow tunnels, taking sharp turns and pushing out the most speed he could with the little vehicle. After only a short time, they emerged into the open once again. Rain drizzled down, green bugs flitted in the air, and red cliffs loomed above them, and the sky was a dark, dark blue. To their right, near the edge of the cliff, a crashed Pelican dropship spewed fire. Chief drove up to it, looking for survivors or supplies. He got out of the hog, and found nothing he could use—just pistol and shotgun ammo. Strangely, no bodies could be found, though Chief did find a toppled hog with a standard M41 LAAG.

Chief mounted his own hog and swung the vehicle around. As he moved up the hill, he spotted the blue handheld shield of a jackal.

“Jackal, ten o’clock.” He whispered into his comm.

“I see him.” Said Malcolm as he tracked the avian like creature “Permission to fire sir?”

“Hold it.” Said the Chief “He might have buddies with him.”

Malcolm kept his gun trained on the jackal even as they advanced. Up the hill, Chief saw a ribbon of smoke rising—grey, dark, bumblebee crash smoke. He maneuvered the hog up the hill, and caught sight of the little craft. He drove towards it, splashed across a small river, and halted next to it.

“This lifeboats trashed Chief.” Said Malcolm “Weapons and supplies everywhere—but no bodies.”

Chief dismounted the hog and inspected the crash. Malcolm was right—their were no sign of bodies.

“Maybe someone made it out of here.” He said aloud.

The Chief looked around the scattered weapons and spotted something interesting—a silenced sniper rifle. He exchanged the weapon for his BR55-M45, which was low on ammo, and then changed out his M7S for a MA5B/S-II. He climbed back into the hog, and sent it forward, towards the jackal they had spotted earlier.

It indeed had friends. Another Jackal and a red armored elite stood ready, who open fired. Plasma chipped away the hog’s window, but Malcolm retaliated with the Gauss cannon. The aliens died as the high velocity rounds struck them. Chief revved the hog over the hill and through a parting of the canyon walls—and was surprised to find another of the beam firing structures.

“Maybe they took cover inside the structure like us.” Suggested Malcolm, and chief had a feeling he was right.

“Lets check it out.” He ordered.

Chief drove the hog towards the side of the complex, near the edge. Immediately, three jackals greeted him with plasma. He reversed quickly as bolts hammered the hog and both his and Malcolm’s shields flared. He spun the LRV around, and then left the area behind.

“I think there in their sir, the Covenant are putting up a big fight to keep that place.” Said Malcolm, and chief nodded.

“I know, but its too hot—lets find a place to hit em from afar.” He said.

Chief swung the hog out of the canyon and to the left. He passed the lifeboat—then swung left into another entrance to the same area. He came to a stop, then dismounted—he now had an aerial overlook of the area below. Chief set up a small area to snipe from, and promptly went on the offensive. He brought down a nearby pair of jackals first, then targeted two elites, who he brought down with headshots. He switched to a group of grunts, and downed one of the long range targets. After eliminating two more grunts and a red elite, he returned to the hog.

“Get ready, were going in hot.” He said to Malcolm.

Chief boarded the hog and drove down the slope. He stayed right, near the plateaus edge—then hurtled to a stop near the large middle structure. Malcolm took down four grunts with the gauss cannon, and chief noticed an entrance to one of the smaller structures—it looked like a doorway to a subterranean section. Apparently, Cortana noticed it too.

“We should search the interior of those structures before we leave.” She commented.

He would, but in good time. First there were some hostiles to take care of. Chief decapitated a grunt with one of the hog’s wheels, then Malcolm open fired at apparently nothing. Chief was about to ask him what he was doing when he heard a howl and saw the body of a Covenant elite slowly fade into view.

“Cloaked bastard.” Remarked Malcolm.

Chief picked up more contacts on his motion sensor, and heard them talking above him, from the top of the main structure. Chief dismounted the hog, and unslung his assault rifle. Malcolm covered his back with the turret. Chief sprinted up the ramp and targeted a pair of grunts. They were close enough that the reticule shrunk—which meant they were easy kills. He cut both them down in a hail of 7.62mm, then picked up a faint allied motion signature. He glanced down the structure. Malcolm was still in the hog, not moving.

Who had he picked up?

Chief descended the platform, and glanced at Malcolm.

“I picked it up too.” Malcolm told him

Chief knew he wasn’t imagining it. There were survivors, close at hand. And they might need his help.

“Malcolm, hold here, keep topside secure.” Said the Chief.

“Copy Chief.” Said Malcolm, and chief didn’t waste another second.

The Master Chief sprinted for the doorway he had seen earlier, and ran down it. Two grunts stood with their backs to him, and he cut them down. He sprinted past their bodies, and found two jackals with shields turned to him. And fighting them were four marines.

And a SPARTAN.

Grace-093 stood in front of a pair of naval crewman, carrying a massive T850 Chaingun. Her shields flared with energy as she took a bolt of plasma for a crewman carrying an M7S. Behind the group, a pair of grunts came through another doorway, hefting plasma pistols in their stubby hands. Two marines, each with an MA5B/S-II, open fired and drove them back.

Chief fired at the back of one of the jackals, hitting it’s unshielded body. It toppled over and mashed the trigger once last time, singing the floor beneath it with an overcharge bolt from its pistol. The other jackal, a major, carrying an orange shield, turned and sprayed chief with it’s plasma rifle. Heat seared him for a moment—then the jackal stopped firing, lived long enough to realize how fatal a mistake turning its shield was, then died in a hail of rounds from Grace’s T850.

“I’ve called for an evac.” Called Cortana over the comm, and the marines cheered and headed topside via the ramp he had just secured.

Grace halted next to him, and swiped two fingers across her visor. “Good to see you sir, I thought I might’ve been the only one who made it off the Autumn.”

Chief returned her smile gesture. “I’ve got Malcolm with me, but everyone else is MIA. The only other SPARTANs I’ve seen since cryo have been Ajax’s team and Adrian and Angel.” He told her.

She paused for a moment, thoughtful, then shrugged. “I’m betting most of us got off. Captain sent two thirds of us groundside even before the evacuation of most of the marines.”

Chief nodded, glad for this new intel, and led her back up the ramp. They emerged to see Foehammer swoop down, low enough to the ground that the marines could jump on. Grace jumped in the side seat of the hog, hefting the chaingun. Chief watched the marines board the pelican, then tore off the way he and Malcolm had come. As he left, a transmission from Foehammer crackled through the SPARTAN TEAMCOMM.

“I’ve spotted additional lifeboats in your area. One near a rockslide, and another near the head of the river. Hard to see from my altitude, but it looks like there could be more survivors.” She informed the chief.

“Copy Foehammer.” Said Cortana, and the chief steered out of the area completely into the section containing the empty lifeboat.

Chief stopped, scanned the skies, and noted two banshees circling.

“Malcolm, Grace, confirm you see the banshees.” He asked over TEAMCOMM

They both confirmed, and the Chief looked at his surroundings. Too the left, a river moved slowly past, which fed into a waterfall that cascaded off of the plateau. In front of him, he spotted an entrance to another canyon area, and farther on, to his right, he spotted what appeared to be two more. Banshees circled this area, making it hot. He would’ve liked to avoid the banshees…but the need for Foehammer to be able to operate unmolested made him have to engage them.

“Prep yourselves team, were going in.” he told Malcolm and Grace

Chief revved the hog and accelerated to the Banshee pair. One saw them and broke off, sending a fuel rod gun towards the hog. Malcolm and Grace open fired while Chief swerved, avoiding the deadly radioactive green blast. The banshee took a gauss round and two dozen slugs in the nose, and fell to the ground, leaving a blue explosion cloud behind it. Chief drove over a hill and discovered that there were indeed three entrances, and saw below him a pair of grunts and an elite.

As they drove down the hill, Malcolm gutted the elite with a Gauss slug. Grace mowed down the fleeing grunts with her chain-gun, splashing bright blue blood over the dark red canyon walls. The remaining banshee, seeing it’s partner and ground forces down, tried to retreat, but Malcolm drilled it twice with the Gauss cannon. The craft crashed to the ground.

“Why don’t we have more of those things?” asked Grace jokingly

“Ditto to you.” Said Malcolm, pointing at the chaingun.

Grace laughed, and the Chief wished he could join in. Being in command denied him of these moments—he couldn’t well take part in jokes and teasing if he wanted to keep his air of command. He was forcibly aloof.

Putting aside his thoughts, Chief steered the hog to the right, towards the opening farthest from the lifeboat. It was a twisting darkened tunnel like passageway that emerged into another open area, again dominated by one of the strange beam shooting structures. Just ahead, a lifeboat crash still smoked, and it was being prowled by two jackals. A hill dominated the corner of the area in front of him to the right, while the complex took up most of the other space.

Chief was about to attack the jackals when one of them crumpled. The sound of muffled sniper-fire filled the area, and the other jackal was soon gunned down. Chief traced the shots, and saw they came from the hillside. In the distance, he saw Covenant pressing for that same area. Chief stomped on the gas pedal and the hog shot forward. Up ahead, a group of grunts waddled towards the hill, who Grace promptly put down with a burst of the T850. The SPARTAN laden warthog ran a gauntlet of Covenant, weaving past Jackals and Grunts. They drove up the hill, and Chief caught sight of shining green—another SPARTAN-II.

As the hog pulled to a stop, the SPARTAN approached the hog and broadcasted to the hog. Chief heard James’ unmistakable voice.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes Chief. We’re in a bad way; we’ve got wounded here.” Said James

“How many?” asked Chief.

“One sir, one of our snipers. Plus, none of my three marines are in very good shape.”

Chief pondered this for a moment. “James, get them to hold back—we’ll hold off the Covenant troops long enough for evac to arrive with the hog.” He ordered

James nodded and ran for the group of three marines, who Chief saw were in a corner. Chief quickly turned the hog and reversed it so that the gun turret and Grace faced downhill. He dismounted the vehicle and unlimbered his sniper rifle.

“Stay here, put some fire downrange.” He told them

For the next few minutes, they held their position. Grace and Malcolm laid down a withering torrent of fire on anyone who got close, and Chief took down a dozen targets at range before they could get close. Three waves, deployed by dropships at the far end came, and all three were put down by the SPARTAN hog and the Chief. James held off the enemy in a corner of the area, and acted as a spotter for chief, using his battle rifle to pinpoint targets.

Eventually the final wave came and was beaten back by the UNSC troops. Over the radio, Foehammer’s voice crackled loud and clear.

“Echo-419 to Cortana, Foehammer on station and ready for another pick up.” Said the pilot

“Affirmative Foehammer, we’re ready for dust off, approach when ready.” Replied Cortana “We’re going to look for the last lifeboat Echo-419, good luck.”

A shadow passed over the hog as the Pelican swooped down into the canyon, and settled to the ground near the lifeboat. The master chief turned to James, who saluted.

“Sir, permission to help look for the other boat, sir?” asked James

“Negative.” Said Chief. He valued James—but his lack of transport would slow them down. “Stay with the marines and wait for the rendezvous.”

James nodded, and followed the marines down the hill. Him and a marine carried the injured soldier between them, who clutched his stomach.

Chief turned to Grace and Malcolm, and boarded the battered hog. The last battle had messed it up a bit, and a piece of the front had broken off. He hit the gas and sent the vehicle forward, to the left of the lifeboat. He spotted an exit different from their entrance tunnel, and drove up it. It was a small hill, which crested then fell where the canyon parted. As they reached the top, chief took in the scene; a roaring waterfall to his left, which fed a river which flowed in front of him. An elevated section stood at the bank of the river, and beyond it, another canyon parting lay in the red rock. On the elevated section, chief spotted a Jackal major and it’s underling, standing at attention but not facing him.

He revved the hog and sent it moving downward, then turned left. The hog flew past a boulder, down a short drop-off, then chief turned left and sent it up onto the elevated section. The jackals reacted to the SPARTAN presence with a pair of plasma bolts—Malcolm fired back and one of the jackals turned into purple spray. Chief sent the hog straight for the other jackal—when a plasma grenade appeared as if out of mid-air and flew dangerously close to them.

Grace sprayed the air with T850 fire, and a few rounds struck a target—the shields of a cloaked elite shimmered, revealing it. Malcolm fired on it and blue it’s upper torso away, then him and Grace fired at the fleeing Jackal Major who tried in vain to shield itself with it’s handheld device. Grace’s rounds bounced off, but Malcolm’s drilled straight through, putting a hole the size of a frag grenade in the Jackals’s chest. Cortana spoke up over the comm, thinking it an opportune moment between the fighting.

“Warning: I've picked up reports that the Covenant have located and secured the Pillar of Autumn's crash site. The good news is the Captain's still alive. The bad news is that the Covenant have captured the entire surviving command crew.” She said. “Let's hurry and find the final lifeboat, so we can link up with the rest of the survivors.”

The Master Chief pondered this briefly; if the Covenant had the crew, they would undoubtedly torture them to reveal Human secrets. He doubted the Captain would break…but he didn’t know about the rest of the crew. He pushed aside these thoughts and moved the hog up a hill, through the break in the canyon walls. The hog roared down a steep slope, then through a tunnel, then out into an open area. This area, unlike the last few, wasn’t dominated by strange silver alien structures—rockslide of boulders dominated the area. Most were a silver grey, but a few were dark brown, almost red. In the corner, off to the right, the Chief saw a single lifeboat smoking, and imbetween the rocks, he saw muzzle flashes. He steered the hog past a group of trees, and sent it towards the slide. There had to be human troops there.

As he drove closer, he heard the muzzle cracks of BR55-M45s, and he caught a glimpse of green. More SPARTANs, good news to be sure. The Chief roared through a patch of grunts, and headed for the far side. He roared around it, all the way to the middle of the slide, when he took a left onto a elevated dirt area. A marine sniper crouched there and greeted him with a cheer. As chief parked the hog, he gave orders to Malcolm and Grace.

“Use the high ground as an advantage; stay here. I’ll check on the troops down below.” He said

Chief disembarked from the hog after putting it close to an edge so they could fire, and jumped down from the dirt pad. He slid off a boulder and landed without harm. He spotted three SPARTANs and an equal amount of marines. On his HUD, the names of the SPARTANs ticked off: Fred, Anton, and Li. Fred held a BR55-M45 while Anton and Li both carried T850s.

“Good to see you sir.” Said Fred

Anton and Li tossed him salutes. Master Chief nodded, and was about to speak the voice of a marine cut through the comm channel.

“Another dropship!”  Chief glanced at Fred.

“Lets move.” He told him.

Fred nodded, and hand-signaled his squad to move out. Chief sprinted around a corner, and spotted a jackals foot, mostly obscured by a rock outcropping. He dropped to a crouch and let the alien have it, and soon enough it was on the ground in a pool of it’s own blood. Two more rounded the corner, and chief open fired. He caught one in the notch of it’s shield—sending it sprawling back, and allowing him to put another batch of rounds in it to finish it off. He turned to the other jackal and smacked it with his rifle—but it had enough time to hit him with an overcharge bolt of plasma.

Chief checked his tracker. All clear. Despite his blinking shields, he stepped out into the open. He thought he was relatively safe—until he saw a blur to his right. Chief saw the elite uncloak, tried to dodge—but it was too late. The creature fired twice—two red hot sledgehammers pelted Chiefs front armor.

Pain lanced through him, and he saw his own vital signs spike into red. His vision grew hazy, but he blinked and cleared it. He felt his armor singe and melt, then cool and harden. Internal temperatures skyrocketed.

Out of sight, he heard the clack of Fred’s BR, and the elite dropped. The chief took a got to his feet, and tried his best to ignore the pain. It wasn’t easy.

Over the comm, he heard Malcolm’s voice. “I got another dropship!” he yelled.

“Get to your squad, have them pull back.” Chief told Fred, and Fred nodded.

“On it Chief.” He told him.

Chief nodded and sprinted for Malcolm and Grace. A wave of realization came over him as he heard a deep booming blast. Those dropships, like those that launched the assault during the struggle to save the first survivors, where he had met up with Malcolm, weren’t ordinary craft. They too, had to be Type 88s.

Over an open comm, he heard Fred speak up.

“Ok marines and SPARTANs, retreat.”

Chief reached the top of the rise and saw Malcolm and Grace firing from the hog. He turned, and watched as Fred led the others up to the rise as well. He was filled with comfort for a moment—which turned to sick dread as he watched a dropship fly in close. Malcolm and Grace kept firing at the thing—until it decided to retaliate.

The master chief silently cursed.

The dropship unleashed another plasma bomb—this one right next to the hog. It detonated and sent the hog careening off the edge, into the area below, a forty foot drop, easy. Survivable—but crippling. And as chief watched covenant infantry swarm towards the area from two different directions, he knew they wouldn’t survive if he didn’t do something.

“Fred give me cover!” he yelled into the comm and jumped from the ledge, onto a nearby rock. He slid down, then landed in a crouch.

The hog lay burning ten feet away—as did Malcolm. Grace was lying on the ground nearby, but she was moving—hefting a sidearm, as her chaingun lay in pieces by her feet. She open fired, downing half a dozen grunts, before her pistol clacked empty. She cursed and tossed a grenade.

Chief open fired at an elite trying to get a shot on her, and gunned it down before it could fire. More covenant poured in, and he found himself surrounded—only to see chaingun fire and BR55-M45 rounds hit the other hostiles, downing them. Chief looked behind himself to see Fred rush in and grab Grace—drag her off the field of combat while firing his BR55-M45 one handed. Chief took out a group of Jackals as his heart raced with anger and fear and rage. He fell back, helping Fred carry Grace, who, after a few moments, began carrying most of her own weight.

The remaining Covenant also fell back—a fatal mistake. The sound of sniper fire filled the air, and the Covenant troops died under a hail of high velocity slugs. Over the comm, Chief heard Cortana radio Foehammer

“That’s the last of them.” She said happily.

“Roger that. I’m on my way.” Replied Foehammer

“New traffic on the Covenant battle net! I've found Captain Keyes! He's being held on a Covenant cruiser, the Truth and Reconciliation, a ship I disabled before we abandoned the autumn.” Said Cortana “The Truth and Reconciliation touched down on a desert plateau roughly three hundred kilometers upspin.”

Chief knew Cortana was already planning a rescue mission, and he agreed one needed to be conducted. They had to get to Keyes and the other command crew before the Covenant could force vital information out of them. He scanned the skies and watched Echo-419 touchdown, and placed a NAV marker on it to get the other SPARTANs attention.

“That’s our ride. Get onboard and lets get out of here.” Said the Chief

Master Chief left Grace with Fred, and watched Li and Anton pick up Malcolm’s body and begin to bring him to the Pelican. He moved away, got their before they did, and received a wonderful surprise.

On the Pelican sat a green-clad figure, encased in MJOLNIR. Across her lap, a sniper rifle lay fully assembled. It was Linda.

“Sir, good to see you.” Said Linda, and Chief smiled inside his helmet.

“How’d you get here?” He asked

“Foehammer picked up a distress beacon I let out. She told me what was happening…so I decided to see if I could lend a hand.” Said Linda

“Good. We could certainly use your help. We’ve got a new mission: Keyes is prisoner and we need to get him out.” Replied the Master Chief

Linda patted her sniper rifle. “Ready and waiting Master Chief.” She said.

Fred and the others walked up to the Pelican, and greeted Linda. As they exchanged remarks, Chief clambered aboard the Pelican, and watched the others do the same. Over the chatter, Foehammer spoke up.

“Welcome aboard Master Chief, ready for dustoff.” She said.

Cortana opened up a new channel, and Chief heard her and Foehammer talking.

“We should move out Lieutenant.” Ordered Cortana “We’re going to need your help on a rescue mission.”