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) --  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." Turok nodded and silently spoke back, "Understood."