Flight of the Phoenix: Book 1

  

Warning
Contains adult language.

Prologue

 * Spartan-D339 sprinted behind the rock as plasma thudded overhead. The squeal of an Unggoy was heard as he fished out another clip for his MA5C and rammed it home.  He fervently wished that Commander had been able to get the new Spartans their augmentations in time, but funding was short.

A high pitched squeak made him look up. A grunt was on the rock staring down at him, pistol coming around.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

He pushed of the rock as a bolt burned the grass where he was not a split second before. He spun and put three rounds in the villains head.

Rising from his position on the ground, he assessed the situation with a practiced eye. He was only 13 years old, but seven years of military training was more than enough to assess danger.

Spotting two nearby ODSTs, he made for their cover.

He rushed over and spotted the Brute hurling a plasma grenade.

"Get down!" He screamed, grabbing the ODSTs pushing them away. The grenade landed behind him, and glowed brighter. There was no time to move.

Hot plasma boiled along his back, cooking skin and flesh, eating him hungrily...

Chapter One: The Egg
0900 Hours, August 5th, 2555 (UNSC Military Calendar)


 * The young boy jerked awake as the hatch opened, spilling three thousand ten year old boys and girls out on to a large field. Blinking in the early morning hours, they began doing what most six year olds do.

They played, and fought, until a bunch of men brought them under control with glowing rods.

He was spared, not being the playing kind. He never was the playing kind, not since the monsters burned his mommy and daddy...

He was roughly shaken and ordered to watch a man. The man was very direct.

"Greetings, recruits. My name is Commander Damian Lash. You have all been called here for a specific purpose.  You are to be Spartans, our greatest warriors." The children shifted, knowing of what he spoke of but not comprehending.

"Each of you has lost someone. Many humans have after the Great War.  But you will be given a chance that few humans will ever have.  It is my duty and responsibility to prepare you to take vengeance for what you have lost."

Vengeance, thought the young boy. Yes, vengeance is a good cause to fight. The man continued to speak.

"You will be furnished with the best technology and training that we can provide. I will only be with you for a short while, but in that time I hope that you will begin to show who you will become.  Handlers!"

The men with glowing rods shepherded them to a very large building, in which they were each given a small bed and locker. Looking inside the locker, he found several uniforms similar to the ones the "handlers" had worn. It was strange, these seem custom tailored to fit him, which was odd, considering he had never met these strange people before.

After and hour (he was told the time was 1000 now) the handlers fetched them, split them all in to groups, and put them in large, round rooms with seats around the walls facing inward. He took a place at the front of the seats, nearest the center of the room.

A large human, motherly in nature, sprang in to life. The kids shrank back a bit, never having seen an AI before.

"Greetings", said the AI. "My name is The Librarian." The Librarian smiled warmly. "My job is to teach you the history of the human race and other subjects, such as math and science." For four years their days were much the same. The young boy made friends, and when the time came to form teams, they all joined him.

They are Phoenix Team. The young boy took the name Wings-D339, as he is the one that holds the team aloft, above the others.

Chapter Two: Formation
0900 Hours, November 19th, 2559 (UNSC Military Calendar)


 * The young Spartans stood at attention out on the parade grounds. Commander Lash was leaving, and they were to receive a new commander.

Phoenix Team was first out on the grounds as always, front and center. Therefore his team got the honor of being first to see the new commander.

A Pelican soared down over the trees as Commander Lash walked to greet the incoming commander. Many of the other Spartans shifted, and Wings glanced over to make sure the rest of his team remained still. They did. Good.

The Pelican touched down, and the hatch opened.

Out marched a giant, encased in entirely in green armor, minus a helmet, which Wings spotted attached to his pack as the soldier turned to greet Lash. Phoenix was close enough to hear the conversation between the two. Thankfully, Lash was good enough to call "at ease". Some of the recruits were rocking on their feet, about to faint.

"I trust your trip was comfortable, errr...", Commander Lash slipped, looking for some semblance of rank on the giant's armor.

The giant filled the void: "Captain. And yes, it was comfortable, Commander."

"Then I trust you are ready to begin your duties, sir?" "I am." "Then I hand over the base to you. Good luck in the coming years, Captain."

"Thank you." The Captain helped Lash and his orderlies with the former Commander's luggage. As the Pelican took off, the orderlies carried away the Captain's small amount of luggage and the giant stood on the platform examining the trainees. They all stared back, awed.

Then the captain spoke. "My name is Ezekiel-254. I have little to say to you, except that someday, you will be like me.  This I know will happen." He glanced around. "I plan on doing a meritocracy. If you do well, you will be rewarded.  If you do wrong, then you will be punished.  Now, where is Phoenix Team?" His face did not change as Wings and his team took one step forward. "I hear you are the team that came out ahead in the initial education tests."

Did we? Thought Wings frantically. All he knew was that his scored were excellent. "Aye, sir."

"Very well", said Ezekiel. "For this, you will have the first choice of barracks. No go make your decision.  Everyone is dismissed!"

All of Phoenix's eyes widened. The purpose of the nearby barracks had made for interesting debate over the years. The children told not spook stories, but more often talked about which barracks they would want if ever they lived there. Shaking with glee, they all yelled, "Thank you, sir!" and ran off to claim their barracks.

While they were examining the barracks, they all made decisions based on their preferences within the group. Itzia and Peec, the medic and computer expert, respectively, didn't care where they go as their specialties did not have terrain requirements. Zero, the long ranged expert, wanted a barracks on a hill, while X wanted a relatively large area. So Wings proposed a compromise. They take a barracks on the border of the woods, slightly farther away from the other barracks while allowing Zero to climb to a high place.

Each barracks was 700 square meters. Five Spartans to each barracks meant that each one had a space of 140 square meters for themselves, the dimensions varying depending on positioning of living quarters and the personality of the particular Spartan.

In each living area that was to be rearranged there was a cabinet of clothing, a weapons locker, and an armor locker that held smaller versions of ODST suits. The weapons lockers were currently empty, but a note on the center table said that the ODST armor was for TTR training, and that weapons would be issued sometime in the near future.

That future turned out to be right the next morning. After getting acquainted with their new living quarters, everyone had fallen asleep or stayed awake playing cards. A favorite was a game called gapatos, a variant of the Spanish words gato, meaning cat, and zapatos, meaning shoes.

When the trainees awoke the next day, they found notes attached to the weapon lockers. X was first to have his locker open, him having the most dexterous hands.

His mouth made a silent "oooh" shape, and he lifted a brand new service pistol in to view. Everyone else had their lockers opened in a jiffy, and the team gathered around the central table to admire the pistols.

Zero ran her fingers along the barrel, examining every surface, and announced:

"Standard fare SM6D pistol. An old weapon made new. Every piece has been re engineered to give maximum power with the lowest possible recoil.  The magazine has also been extended to 18 rounds."

X sighted down his. "I wonder how often it-"

"Shut it", Wings broke the conversing.

The call-to-parade-grounds bugle was being called.

They dropped the pistols on the table and ran out, as usual, being the first team there.

Ezekiel was standing there on a small raised platform, waiting for all the teams to join. By the time the last team walked out, yawning and rubbing their eyes sleepily, and stood to attention all of Phoenix's team members were getting dizzy. There is a danger to standing at attention for too long. Locking the knees decreases blood flow to the brain, and causes fainting, so they were beyond relief when the Captain said "at ease".

Wings let out a relieved sigh as he felt blood pour back in to his head, waking him. He looked up, but Captain merely jerked his head behind him and to the left and stated, "follow me", and took off at a run designed to let them keep up.

Grumbling and complaints were heard as all 3,000 Spartans ran after him.

After about half an hour of running, the Captain stopped and lined all the Spartans up along the edge of a valley. He activated a mic set in to the collar of his uniform and said: "There are five things for each team here, in this valley. Going outside the boundaries marked by the handlers will result in disqualification.  Go." And then he watched.

Wings first had his team pause and watch. Ezekiel may run a meritocracy, but he knew that the people on top would just have things made harder for them. And they were on top right now...

Dammit. He thought to himself. He's smart so he may have hidden them in hard places for us to find, but he know we're smart and would put them hidden in plain sight.

"Zero, X, you take the depressions and clearings. The rest of us will take the hills.  Start south and comb your way forward."

Ezekiel-254 watched the trainees. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, then was stilled.

It was amusing, watch most of the trainees bumbling about, and surely, many of the handlers found hilarity in it.

Then his eyes rested on Phoenix team, and he saw the leader. He asked the orderly for his name.

"He goes by the name Wings, sir. Not sure why."

"Wings on a Phoenix, soldier, can't fly without them, that's why." Interesting, surely he knows my plan.

And surely Wings did. They combed the entire area, and while they weren't the first people back, they were the first full team back.

Ezekiel sat in his office thinking. He had to get Phoenix a challenge. The best work when they get stressed, if they get coddled, then they become weak.

''Maybe we should... no, its stupid to consider.''

Then he smiled. Stupid could be good. He just had to prove they could handle stupid.



"He wants us to do what?

Itzia let out a small sigh. "Like I said. He wants us to fight Alpha Company in a one way CTF."<

"TTR rounds?"

"Stun."

"Well, at least its more like real ammunition, which is what we've mostly been using at the range."

"Do you have a plan."

"No, guess I'll just have to hatch one."

Wings stood, folding his hands behind his head, and proceeded to mumble. The rest of the team activated the holo-table and started a game of gapatos.

Over the duration of the game, Wings alternately paced and lay on his bed, thinking.

Almost the instant the game was over, he stood, and went to the holotable.

"Normally we're limited to our resources in the room, right? Armor and pistol."

"Of course, but how does that help?" Interrupted X.

"The thing is, Captain's breaking the rules, we need to break some. Get more resources.  Raid the armory."

"And then what?" Input Peec.

"Then we put my other plan in to action."

"Raiding the armory can get us disqualified."

"Giving us a challenge five years ahead of time is grounds for reckless endangerment of personnel, and yet he had to go to another base commander and a Fleet Admiral to get permission. Everyone's rules are breaking.  Besides, the only way I can see us doing this is with some extra guns."

Chapter 3: Talons
0200, November 19th, 2559 (UNSC Military Calendar)

"Huh, that was weird."

Wings crawled over to Peec, who was supposed to be working on the lock.

"What?"

"Its... unlocked."

"Well then, lets get in there and take what we can. EMP?"

Peec grabbed a small cylindrical device and tossed it in. He and Wings stood back and waited for it to go off. Contrary to what popular media would have them believe, the EMP went off without a flash or crackle of electricity. There was just a crackling in the air, and their hair stood on end.

"Go."

Four ran in and starting ransacking the place, grabbing explosives, weapons, ammunition, and technical gadgets. Itzia remained outside, on watch. The team had at most two minutes to get what they could, and they didn't waste it.

One minute and thirty-two seconds later, they all got out, locked the door, and sneaked back to the barracks.

Once back, the loot was dumped all over and organized.

Wings examined the pile and proclaimed proudly: "Better than expected. Now, here's the plan..."



Zero sniffed and shuffled a little bit. The ghilli suit she had made was uncomfortable. She paused and decided that that was a good thing, the constant prod of a twig or whatnot kept her awake. She blew out a small breath and focused on the scope attached to the sniper rifle that she had purloined and settled out. This was where she belonged, eying her enemy in the face from several hundred meters away.

A primitive old gate slammed shut. Time to take action.

She took careful aim at a dog kennel and fired.

Not a bullet, or even a TTR round. She fired a small canister that contained high-pressure ammonia through the door of the kennel. Traces of another chemical compound contained at the tip of the round were released, dispensing the gas in aerosol form. The gas quickly filled the room, and the dogs were free of smell. A couple whined, but the handler just shushed them. Now she loaded the stun rounds, and waited.



"That's the gas, go."

Wings waved his team forward, and X roadie ran to the fence, followed by his squad mates. Pulling a vial of spray-acid, he applied it liberally and tugged.

The fence fell away, silently.

Wings almost grinned as they walked right by the dogs. The genius of his plan lay in its stupidity. With sound-proof walls and no windows, and no sense of smell, the dogs were rendered useless as a deterrent and sensor. Most bases kept dogs due to a recent shortage of motion tracking sensors and spectroscopic cams. As a result, rendering the dogs useless took out a significant portion of the base's defenses.

Now for the hard part. Wings thought, then ordered to Zero, "Hit it."

A bullet shot out of nowhere (Wings told her to set up somewhere and not tell them where) and sliced the cord holding the flag to the pull.

The crack woke the entire camp, who promptly headed for the fence and bunkers.

Once it was apparent that they were relatively safe, Wings flicked a finger forward and charged to the flag.

They had to be quick, or else...

"Oy!"

Dammit.

Wings pounded his feet even harder against the ground, and he and his team flew over the parade ground dirt, scooped up the flag, and kept going, straight ahead.

In his earpiece Zero's voice crackled: "Down, now."

Wings dropped, as did the other three, as 7.56 mm rounds flew over there head, then Zero's rifle silenced them.

Phoenix jumped up and kept running, with X whipping out the acidic aerosol, and covered him while he applied it.

Wings scored three "downs" before he felt a tap on his shoulder, and allowed himself to be pulled through the hole in the fence.

They kept running. Wings took the flag and said, "Split up, we'll rendezvous at the camp.

The nodded and sped off, hoping he could get back safely.

So did he.

He took off parallel to the fence, as dogs began barking. Even deprived of an amazing sense of smell, they still had incredibly acute hearing and sight, and he was swiftly discovered.

Now he sprinted off parallel to his team. It was a two kilometer run, and he had to do it in ten minutes before they got the Pelicans fueled...



Zero saw her work was done and was about to fold up the rifle when dogs barked. She immediately silenced them with four quick shots to the chest.

Her work done, she took off after the rest of Phoenix Team.



Wings was last back to camp, and they could not be happier. They had just outgunned, outmaneuvered and outsmarted forty men who had fought toe-to-toe with the Covenant for years. There could be no higher honor than defeating them.



Ezekiel smiled as he watched the video from the gun-cams he had placed on the weapons Phoenix stole. Looks like they can handle stupid He thought happily.

One year, then they'll be ready.

Chapter 4: Spreading the Wings
2235 Hours, August 1st, 2562 (UNSC Military Calendar)

"Well, we have come far."

"But actual fighting?"

"We do have to start sometime." Peec sighed and turned back to the card game with X and Itzia. Zero and Wings were having another discussion. Wings wasn't happy with it again. This was understandable, he was the smart one, who did all the planning and leading stuff. Not that Peec was an idiot, he'd worked hard to be the best hacker in camp. That's why he had his name, a mispronunciation of PC, from the old computer from the 21st and 22nd century.

Now Zero was coming to join them, and Wings was pacing.

Peec turned to Zero. "Whats the story?"

Zero scowled and replied "Captain wants us to help an ODST battalion take out a Covenant beta on Zeta-9.

X and Itzia looked up. After the death of Truth the Covenant had fallen in to remission, and begun to actually develop new methods of fighting. Now they had started defensive tactics, building hyper-advanced bases. The good part is that so little experience actually defending left the Covenant using terrible building layouts and terrain location. However, they still possessed ample defenses and arms, and could take a hell of a pounding before being crippled.

Itzia spoke first, "I take it the ODSTs will have the support of the Separatists?"

Zero sat and stared at the frozen mid-air cards. "Of course, you know what this is about."

They knew. A few months ago, the Captain had announced that he was trying to open communications and establish an alliance instead of just a truce with the Covenant Separatists. Most agreed, but still, many had watched Sangheili and some of the other alien species that had joined them burn planets and slaughter innocents. They were only young when it happened, but the memory enhancement drugs had allowed them to remember what happened before they were born. And that was early enough to remember a small amount of time before the Sangheili separated from the Covenant.

Peec had in fact been about to be speared by a Sangheili commando when the call came for them to refute the Covenant and that a truce had been formed with the humans. The commando had gone slack, as if his soul had been burnt out of him. That had given Peec time to leave before a Wraith plasma mortar disintegrated the small, single-floored home where his parents lay, torn asunder.

But Peec had studied Intel of Sangheili culture in his time on ONI servers, and during their studies of Sangheili language and customs from The Librarian, and found that the Sangheili had been fooled, and that this was their punishment, to regain their lost honor. So he could understand and forgive, but he could never forget.



Thel 'Vadam paced the bridge of the Shadow of Intent, as Rtas 'Vadum tapped his fingers against the dormant command chair holo-keys.

Rtas decided to throw caution to the winds and speak his mind, "I still do not think that an alliance with the humans is possible."

The Arbiter stopped his pacing and turned to study the renowned fleet commander. "They are an honorable species. And we are going to be working with some best warriors."

Rtas snorted silently. "That is the problem, Arbiter. When a species puts forward their best, then the other is left with an inflated view of them."

The Arbiter took his words silently, finishing his last few steps to stand opposite to 'Vadum at the control holo-table.

Rtas waited. Finally, the Arbiter spoke.

I agree, which is why we are working with some of the best, the humans call them "Helljumpers". And I believe five of their younglings will be working with them..."

"Younglings!? They let their children fight for them!?"

"These are special. They are young Spartans, and the best they currently have.  After the campaign on Zeta-9 I will be with them, watching these warriors mature.  If we do not see the best in species, then we underestimate their full potential.  Have patience, Fleetmaster, we will see the worst as well as the best in humans."

Rtas 'Vadum bowed his head and concentrated on the diagrams showing the units left until they reached the human planet, and toyed with the Type-2 Energy Sword prototype attached to his leg.

"As you say, Arbiter."



Lieutenant Jacob Forge checked his BR-55 for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Despite outward appearances, he was awkward about working with Elites. The tattoos on his arms attested to how effective he was at killing them, but he wasn't so sure about working with them. The bastards were the stuff of nightmares. He would know, he had them most every night.

And about the young Spartans who were supposed to be helping them...

Dammit, what was the galaxy coming to? They were supposed to expect help from twelve-year-olds? What could they do? They were Spartans, but they had no combat experience of any kind, and none of the augmentations or armor that made them a real asset.

Sergeant Aqil Hafsa marched up to him. They were currently under the cover of high tech sensor scrambling camouflage.

"Sir, the Spartans are here."

"Thank you Sergeant. Report back to the mess."

Forge let out a sigh and slung his battle rifle. Time to greet the newcomers. He thought.



On the other hand, maybe we're the newcomers. Forge thought dryly as he examined the small figures. They were small, but they were obviously more military in posture and practice than his men, even in the relatively heavy ODST suits they wore. Hell, even Forge didn't stand that straight, or keep his eye from wandering. The design of the ODST helmet prevented anyone from looking around too much without turning their head. And they didn't even twitch. Most of the other ODSTs were coming out of tents and the mess, staring and gesturing. A couple laughs arose, then were silenced as Hafsa shut them up.

All five of them saluted in sync, and the one in the center spoke: "Phoenix Team reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease."

Forge turned and stared at the other ODSTs, who went silent and back to their jobs.

Turning back to the Spartans, he saw that they had adjusted to the at ease stance, but had otherwise shown no other body emotion. Forge could tell that two of them were female and three male by the movement in their hips, but no other indication of personality came out of them.

Perfect soldiers he thought.

"Names."

"Spartan D339."

"D576."

"D1074."

"D102."

"D2552."

Forge let out a small breath. ''True Spartan rhetoric. Names mean nothing to them, they don't even remember their names. Its just numbers.'' But he had to ask.

"No actual names?"

"We do, sir, but we prefer to keep them private, if that's not a problem."

"Its not, Crewman. Report to you quarters.  Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

They marched off, and Forge release his breath, then realized how relaxed he felt. Their presence had made him tense. He wasn't tense taking on three elites but these little children made him nervous.

Glad no one could see him shivering in his suit, Forge went to his quarters.



"Fleet Master, we're exiting slipspace."

'Vadum nodded towards the navigation officer, and space bent back in to reality.

Zeta-9 was in view. A small, green planet, very much like the old versions of Earth that 'Vadum had studied in the Covenant temples when being initiated as a warrior of the Prophets.

His came out of his reverie to the beeping of his com. He opened it. "Yes?"

It was the Arbiter. "Phantoms are prepared for departure. Are we close enough?"

"Yes Arbiter, proceed with launch.

'Vadum closed his com and leaned back in his chair. The Arbiter and his team would destroy the base's shields, then the ''Shadow of Intent would fulfill its duty.



Ipla 'Ihporee slid his hand forward on the throttle and grabbed the flight handle. Easing the ship forward, he took his Phantom smoothly out of the hangar, the first of three. The Minor Domo felt honored that he should be the pilot for the renowned Arbiter.

A light on the com beeped, and 'Ihporee opened a channel.

"Yes?"

"This is Sergeant Hafsa of the UNSC, please identify yourself."

Here we go. "Minor Domo Ipla 'Ihporee of the Separatist forces, from Carrier ''Shadow of Intent."

"Ah, good, you're here. Sending landing coordinates."

Not half a second later a list of coordinates flickered across the screen, and 'Ihporee started bringing the ship down. There was a lot of turbulence and some flashes as the ship broke in to the atmosphere. Then the ship broke the cloud cover, and landed among a grove of trees, with a lot of humans in black suits and five shorter ones out in front.

'Ihporee landed and headed to the rear troop compartment. Reaching out, he activated the grav beam, which the other Sangheili would use to exit the ship.

As they descended, 'Ihporee glanced to the rear of the compartment and felt his skin crawl on his back. The last one out of the Phantom was a black armored Sangheili warrior, with two Type-2 Energy Swords attached to his legs and a Type-51 Carbine across his back. But his most notable feature was his skin. It was a pale white, and his eyes had a tint of red, giving his eyes a naturally piercing stare. And 'Ihporee knew this particular Sangheili. Most Sangheili knew him.

His name is Autel 'Vadam, the son of the Arbiter, The Healer of the Schism.

'Ihporee sighed, a rare thing for a Sangheili warrior, and went back to the pilot's seat after Autel went down the grav beam.



Wings slapped his modified ODST helmet on, and the HUD flickered to life, first running a quick diagnostic check, then activating Vital signs for him and his team, as well as basic shielding, which worked about half as well as MJOLNIR Mark V armor. It wouldn't stand much, but it would give them a second or two more to get in to cover, and to drop the enemy. He grabbed two M2 Submachine Guns, and his BR55 Battle Rifle. He magnetically attached the SMGs to his thighs, and did the same with the BR across his back. He ended with his service pistol, the SM6Dm which went at the small of his back, well below the end of the BR barrel, easily accessed by his right hand, less so for his left.

After some adjustments to armor and weapons, Phoenix marched out on to the parade ground, where the rest of the combined forces were making ready.

Things between the Elites and humans had been uncomfortable, and even bordered on violence, but so far, everything was safe.

Wings left his team to stretch and wake up some more and reported to the command tent. He was annoyed by how all the ODSTs didn't trust his team to do their part, and yet they still looked up to them.

But still, he was considered the ranking CO of one of three branches of military in the region, so he got to help plan the assault.

The command tent was situated near the edge of the grove, overlooking a cliff that gave an excellent view of the Covenant base. Several high-powered telescopes had been set up, which the Arbiter and Lieutenant Forge were using at the moment.

Wings marched up to the CHT, Command Holo-Table, and saluted. "Spartan D339 reporting as ordered, sir."

Forge and The Arbiter turned, Forge giving a human salute, and the Arbiter curling his enourmous hand in a fist over his heart. Or at least, where the heart would be on a human. Surprisingly for the Arbiter, D339 responded with the Sangheili gesture. His mandibles clicked respectfully.

Forge gestured. "At ease, Corporal."

Wings relaxed and examined the CHT. Using the most powerful imagers and 3D rendering, it displayed a highly detailed base, which was quite large. He noted the refineries in the Northeast quadrant, as well as the buildings that looked like they might be barracks just south of them.

The Arbiter walked over to a corner of the room and conversed with another Sangheili, a pale one with black armor. Wings decided to meet him later, and turned his attention back to Forge, who had begun explaining what the buildings were. Turned out Wings was right about the barracks and refineries, and Forge pointed out the central command post an the Vehicle and Aircraft Depot.

"We don't have much of a plan as of yet, so any input is welcome. We have 100 Commando Sangheili, 300 ODSTs, and your team, Corporal.  And we're up against an unknown mix of about 500 Covenant troops, although we have confirmed that only four Hunters exist, and one Brute Chieftain.

Lights popped up on the map, showing predicted defensive positions and relative strength numbers.

Wings walked around the map, examining everything, and stopped when he reached the refineries.

"We can use these."

"No, we can't, the fuel isn't explosive."

"Arbiter."

The Arbiter turned from his quiet conversation with the pale elite.

"Yes, Spartan?"

"When you were learning about the intricacies of basic Covenant bases, did they ever mention exhaust or drainage for their refineries?"

"No, we were told not to worry about the details of Forerunner technology. Why do you ask?"

"Because those refineries produce more than twice the energy of a Havoc Plant, and all the excess fuel and unused energy has to go somewhere. I propose that Phoenix and a squad of Commando Sangheili find the drainage or exhaust.  If its on the exterior of the base, then our job will be much easier."

Forge just looked skeptical, but the Arbiter nodded and turned to the Pale Elite in the corner.

"Autel, take your team with Phoenix, find the exhaust, and help them with whatever plan this Spartan has in mind."

Autel saluted Sangheili style and walked out of the tent. Wings turned back to the table and said:

"Here's the plan..."



Phoenix and the Sangheili's boots splashed in to the toxic waste, and Wings was glad that their toxic filters were working. The damn things had been faulty ever since a crazy training session at a radioactive materials refinery.

They two teams continued their way up the drainage pipe, coming across what must have been the Covenant equivalent of gratings, round plasma shielding. There was no way they were getting through those, so it looked as if they'd be swimming in plasma for a minute.

The end of the pipe finally came in to sight, and the teams saw an intricate system of pipes, with one of them constantly leaking a sickly green, viscous fluid.

"Must be a neutralizing compound, to reduce the toxicity of the drain-off." One of the Sangheili input.

X leaned down and took some in a bag for analysis. "I'd tend to agree, sir," he said to Wings, "The Covenant are known not care too much about their exposure to radiation. Plasma grenades are basically small nukes, just heat and radiation."

There was a sickly gurgling sound, and one of the pipes opened, and both teams pressed themselves against the walls in an attempt to get away from the blue slime that gushed from the opening.

A few minutes later, the rush subsided, and they climbed over the pipes. As the last Sangheili climbed up on the pipes another flood started.

A 90 degree bend upward in the pipe halted forward progress, so they repelled down to an upper catwalk. Looking down, they saw machinery chugging away, and various materials being processed until they finally ended by being pumped up to a large final refinery just below them. Pipes coming from this final stage pumped the fluids out over the base, and the useless, and used, residue was discarded through the drainage pipe they had come in.

Rappelling down off the catwalk to the floor, they exited through the door and in to the main base.

Noise and all different shades of violet surrounded them. Off in the distance, 800 Covenant soldiers moved to defensive formations.

Zero climbed to a ledge while the rest fanned out below her. She snapped the bi-pod out on her anti-personnel rifle and gazed in to it.

Down on the ground, the rest of the team received the video feed in the form of a small screen in the top left of their HUD. While most ignored it and only occasionally took a peek at it, Wings examined it with all of his concentration, examining every pixel as Zero panned across the base.

Wings spotted barracks, depots, even the areas of forest that the combined UNSC and Separatist forces would charge from, but nothing that looked like a reactor or any other power plant. ''Dammit. We've got two hours and 7 minutes to shut this place down, and we don't even know what to shut down. Damned religious fanatics...''

Wings snapped up straight, and was almost spotted by a passing Brute. Ducking back down quickly, he talked to Zero over muted team-com. "Zero, find the temple."

"Yessir."

The view panned faster until it settled on a small but awe-inspiring building. Its curved architecture lending the rays of the falling sun a frightening beauty. Wings examined the building, amazed at the wasteful design of it, thinking that he could probably design two more buildings out of the extra material. And jutting out of one end and sticking in to the ground were two fluorescent blue pipes.

Wings set them as a way point marker. Purple building ledge over it, impossible to see from satellite. Since no infrared had picked it up, the reactor was either near the surface with extreme cooling, or incredibly deep.

Autel walked over to Wings, knelt next to him, and decloaked.

"This is the target?"

"I believe so. Where else would religious fanatics hide something the base couldn't live without?"

Autel held up a hand, two fingers out. The rest of his Elites moved in to position to make for the temple. A short command from Wings and the Spartans did the same.

Autel examined Wings for a minute. When Wings just stared back, he said, "I hope you're right, human. It will mean many deaths if you are not."



Gaining entrance to the temple was easy. Killing the two dozen grunts inside without raising the alarm proved impossible.

The two teams raced toward the grav lift, as teams of Covenant swarmed in to the temple.

The grav lift caught them and they shot straight down, just as plasma sizzled towards them, slapping on to the glass-like material the Covenant used as windows.

Wings breathed a sigh of relief and fished out another mag for his empty battle-rifle.

As the lift slowed, the team got in to flanking position. The instant all movement was halted, they poured out in to the room and spread out in to cover. Wings relaxed as his eyes adjusted fully and settled on a typical Covenant reactor. He waved X and Itzia forward. X jogged to one end of the large, glowing contusion and starting rigging micro-nuclear charges, while Itzia guarded him, shielding his body with hers.. When set off, these charges would be enough to eradicate at least half the Covenant troops and most of the base.

X finished his work, and stepped back, just as the grav lift let out a soft "bing", and out poured a wave of grunts.

They screamed and fired, several bolts splashing against Itzia's shields, which failed as she fired and rolled in to cover.

Wings just fired in to the oncoming horde of gas-suckers. He aimed for the center of mass, which, unfortunately for the grunt, happened to be right at their heads. If the bullet went high, it would likely hit a methane tank. Low and it would hit a throat or chest, knocking the bastard back the way he came and slowing their advance. The Elite's weapons wrecked even more havoc than the humans. The super-heated bolts over pressurized the methane, causing a large explosion.

So even though the 10-man squad was under attack by around 30 grunts, they mowed them down in but ten seconds.

Autel paused as they headed back for the lift, and turned to Wings. "What now, Spartan? They will undoubtedly be waiting for us where we came in, and even we are no match for several dozen Jirahalhanae." His tone was not one of disrespect, but more of one asking a young student a complex question in a strategic struggle.

Wing's left corner of his mouth twitched upward, behind his mask. "That's why we go up and out."



The faces of the Brutes as they whizzed by were ones of shock and amazement. Wing's lip twitched upwards again. They didn't have much time. X already had the shatter charge ready. As soon as the lift stopped, he threw. It stopped against the wall, paused for a second, then detonated. Shatter charges were specific charges that were preset to cause a material's molecular bonds to shatter, thus causing the material to shatter as well.

The team sprinted across and jumped, ten, twenty meters to the ground, where they promptly hoisted themselves up again.

Wings checked the timer. They had 4 minutes and 42 seconds to get out the way they came in.

And they had less than that, if the Brutes spilling out of the doorway behind them had anything to do with that. The team sprinted across the grounds to the entrance of the silo. Autel was first, and halted to turn back and spread covering fire over their heads. Wings was last to the door, and he and Autel slipped through and locked it before the spikes and bolts reached them.

They climbed the ropes they had rappelled in on, and raced down the catwalk. Down below them, the door burst open, and Covenant troops poured in. They milled around for a bit before spotting the ropes and checking the catwalks. By that time the Commandos had entered the refuse shaft.

Wings checked the countdown, just as it clocked at two minutes.

He dropped down in to the pipe and sprinted out in front of the rest, Autel just behind him.

They were halfway down the pipe when a loud sloshing noise was heard.

Wings ordered the rest to keep running and turned to observe what was going on.

All the emergency hatches had opened, and a pure acidic tsunami was raging down towards them.

Wings turned and ran, ordering the others to run as fast as possible.

Most of them made it out easily and braced themselves on either side.

Wings felt the liquid bearing down on him and pumped his tired legs even harder, lactic acids dripping through them. He was two feet from the end of the pipe when a three fingered hand reached out from in front of him and grabbed him by the throat.

The hand pulled him out of the tube even faster than he was running and slammed him against the wall. He immediately grabbed a handhold and watched the acid pour out in to a concealed drainage ditch, which immediately overflowed.

X breathed in to the mic, "3... 2... 1..."

A sun erupted on the opposite side of the wall, and an earthquake dislodged the team from the wall and threw them to the ground. One of the Elite's foot dipped in to the acid river, and he pulled it out as fast as it went in, wincing as the acid burned through his flesh.<

Itzia and the Sangheili medic rushed to help him, pouring a base solution over the wound and cleaning it before filling it with biofoam and wrapping it up.

Wings gathered his squad. "Report."

Itzia spoke first. "Besides the acid burn, the only other injuries were a minor plasma burn to Zero's back and a twisted ankle on my part. We're both fine."

Wings nodded and turned to Peec, who was coordinating with Forge and the Arbiter.

"Yes, the reactor was successfully blown. Estimate almost 40-50% casualties on the Covenant part.  No casualties here."

He looked up and spotted Wing's helmet turned toward him. "Forge wants us to rendezvous at the edge of the forest, via a roundabout route."

Wings nodded, and after confirming the orders with Autel, the combined teams moved out. The elites provided a forward guard, as they had a superior camouflaging system, and Phoenix team followed close on their heels. Before long they reunited with the ODSTs and the Separatists.

Forge nodded as Wings crawled up next to him.

"Teams are in position. We are set to go."

Phoenix hefted their weapons. "Not without us, sir."

"Then get down there and kick some ass."

Phoenix and Autel's teams fanned out and moved to the front, where ODSTs were holding a dogged line at the few remaining Covenant troops. The arrival of two SpecOps squads boosted morale among both of the allied factions, and they fought even more determinedly. Wings led Phoenix team up the left flank, and Autel, the right.

Wings saw a squad of ODSTs come under withering fire, and he forged his way to them. A jackal got in his way, and he reached out and batted the shield away before emptying the rest of his clip in to the creatures abdomen.

Suddenly incoming fire heated up, the enemies recognizing him as a threat worth taking down. Ahead Wings saw a group of ODSTs cowering behind a bunker of rocks.

You've got to be kidding me...

Spartan-D339 sprinted behind a rock as plasma thudded overhead. The squeal of an Unggoy was heard as he fished out another clip for his MA5C and rammed it home. He fervently wished that Commander had been able to get the new Spartans their augmentations in time, but funding was short.

A high pitched squeak made him look up. A grunt was on the rock staring down at him, pistol coming around.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

He pushed of the rock as a bolt burned the grass where he was not a split second before. He spun and put three rounds in the villains head.

Rising from his position on the ground, he assessed the situation with a practiced eye. He was only 13 years old, but seven years of military training was more than enough to assess danger.

Spotting two nearby ODSTs, he made for their cover.

He rushed over and spotted the Brute hurling a plasma grenade.

"Get down!" He screamed, grabbing the ODSTs pushing them away. The grenade landed behind him, and glowed brighter. There was no time to move.

Hot plasma boiled along his back, cooking skin and flesh, eating him hungrily...



Peec saw his brother go down and radioed over the still open SpecOps mic, which allowed Phoenix, Autel, and Forge to hear everything.

"D339 is down, repeat, D339 is down at the left flank, bunker rocks! Get over there, Spartans!"

Technically Zero was the second in command, but none of them cared. Phoenix team, along with Autel's team, blazed a trail to the Bunker rocks.

Forge's voice came over the radio. "Medevac is on the way, just hold them off and get him stable."

Incoming fire slowed as the eight ODSTs in the bunker joined their fire with the incoming SpecOps, and routed the nearby enemy forces.

Itzia raced to Wings, who was already being treated by the ODST squad medic, and shoved him away, telling him to get back to fighting.

The man began to argue, but the presence of the other three Spartans told him it would be wise to do as the little girl said, and picked up his rifle.

Itzia hurriedly got Wings stable. "He's unconscious, but he'll live, provided we do. She looked around.  One ODST was dead and three more were injured, so she treated them as well.

Autel cast a look over his shoulder at the body of the injured Spartan, and asked the "medic" about him as he returned to the business at hand.

"Will he live?"

She let out a small breath. "Yes, if that medevac reached us in ten minutes. If not then his chances fall geometrically.  He has burns over 40% of his body, with a high dose of radiation to boot."

Autel growled. He remember his youth, when he watched dozens of young and promising comrades slaughtered. He would make sure this one lived.

He clicked his mandibles and slapped a new cell in to place in his carbine.

Chapter 5: Raised From Ashes
1347 Hours, August 3rd, 2562 (UNSC Military Calendar)

His head exploded in to pain, and he arched his back reflexively, before he realized the pain was in his back.

He lay back flat and listened for a bit.

"That's the seventh time he's done that, I think the burns may be affecting his nervous system."

"Not deep enough, it has to be the radiation."

"Plasma burns can leave odd holes that bore deeper than the rest, especially Covie plasma."

"EEG is changing, he's awake."

"Dope him up."

Wings heard a click, and then relief spread through his body, and he opened his eyed.

The room he was in was a large medical bay back on the Spartan fortress world. He was currently the only patient. No other Spartan team was in active duty, yet.

His eyes fell on the rest of his team, and a corner of his mouth twitched.

Itzia was at the MRI scanner. "Welcome back."

"What's happening?" He asked as he stood and allowed her to slather antibiotics on and get a new bandage in place.

"Nothing much, you've been out for two days, though."

Wings walked gingerly. Most of the pain was gone, but he knew that no amount of surgery, artificial skin, or dermacortic steroids would ever erase the scars.

X was next to speak. "The Sangheili decided to move in. They're setting up camp as we speak.  Apparently its to be grounds for one of their own SpecOps training facilities."

Wings stiffened his ankles, and his heels rose off the floor. Dropping down to the floor, then repeating the movement several times to stretch his aching limbs, he replied.

"Good, lets go see what's going on." And marched out the door. The rest followed closely.



There was a small no-mans land between the two camps, which was marked by a ten yard wide stretch of green grass.

Phoenix strode in to the Separatist camp, and examined the odd architecture of the buildings.

Plenty of passing Sangheili, both in and out of armor, gave the humans funny looks, but trusted them enough to not cause any trouble.

They worked their way through the camp until they reached a building resembling a temple, with slightly more decoration and size to it, it managed to stand out among the rest.

The team entered, and inside was what would amount to a public reception hall.

The place was decorated sparingly, and as Phoenix Team examined the few alien artifacts, a door binged open and through it stepped Autel 'Vadam.

He was garbed in a dark blue robe that contrasted sharply with his pale skin, and offset his eyes, bringing out the red even better than his armor. A dormant Type-2 energy sword was magnetically held to his leg.

Wings noticed something that had been impossible to see when Autel wore his helmet: two parallel scars, nearly identical, along his cheek.

Autel clicked his mandibles and approached the Spartans.

He acknowledged them, then turned to Wings. "Would you join me? We must talk."

Wings nodded, and had Phoenix wait for him. He followed Autel in to another room, one more comfortably designed. Autel sat on one of the many chairs in the room, and bade Wings to sit as well.

Picking a seat across the table from Autel, Wings shifted uncomfortably for a second before turning his attention to the strange Sangheili before him.

Autel wrung his thumbs together for a minute, before stating, "You have an incredible ability, Spartan."

Wings was perplexed. No one had ever told him he was in any other way special except that his team was probably the best since Blue Team.

"What is that?"

"You know things. Intuition, I believe the word is in your language.  You see things about your enemies that others do not, because you see what your enemies are.  You understand them to the point that you could quite literally become them.  That is what makes you special, besides an innate ability to lead.  Combined, this will make you a great warrior."

Wings thought this over. Come to think of it, he had to agree. After all, no one else had ever found a reactor in a Covenant base before.

Autel bowed his head. "Randall-078, UNSC Service Number 39202-45078-R0."

Wings stared. He recognized that service tag. Searching his memory, he remembered that Randall had been a Class I Spartan II, and had been considered one of the few Spartans to actually be MIA. He queried Autel on this. The Sangheili shook his head.

"Randall-078 was killed in action by six Lekgolo, after slaughtering four other with nothing but his hands and a pole. I witnessed his execution."

Wings deflated somewhat. No one had known what happened to Randall. "When did it happen?"

"In your year? 2551."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he deserved better. He was a seasoned warrior, but far from being past his time.  He was tortured and executed because he did what every other human did: fought for the survival of his species.  And after I witnessed a mass slaughter of Sangheili recruits by Jiralhanae aboard Stoic Courier, I told myself I would help any warrior I deemed worth the effort.

"You, my friend, are worth the effort."

Chapter 6: Making the Connections
1630 Hours, August 1st, 2562 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Wings mulled over Autel's words in his head. He had learned much from the elite, and he now trusted him with his life. But Autel's reasons for helping him were still not complete.

Phoenix was woken from their thoughts by the PA, ordering them to report to the Captain's office.

They rose and double-timed it across the parade grounds, and entered Ezekiel-254's office. The older Spartan looked tired, shuffling paperwork, but his eyes brightened when they marched in and saluted. He rose and returned the favor. "At ease."

As Phoenix assumed the at ease stance, Captain Ezekiel sat back down and pulled out five readers, and handed one to each member of Phoenix Team.

"We just got the green light for the first round of augmentations. You'll be having one round per year, for six total rounds.  Your team is first up.  You leave tomorrow at 0800.  Dismissed."

This was good news, good enough for Wings to push his other worries to the back of his mind.

Chapter 7: Growth
1000 Hours, October 12th, 2567 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Every Spartan felt their best that day. The final round of augmentations had completed two months ago and their training in the new Mark VII MJOLNIR powered armor. It combined the aesthetics and function of the Mark VI armor with the SPI armor used by the Spartan IIIs. However, the fusion plant on the back could only power shields or the active camouflage, not both.

Ezekiel-254 stood. "Dragoon, Manticore, and Flechette team, come forward."

Fifteen Spartans in full gear minus the helmet stood forward, with a great wyrm emblazoned on their backs.

Ezekiel looked them over. "For great commitment to a cause and for great skill, I award each of you the Spartan Honorable Training Decoration."

The Spartans thanked him and went back in to line.

"Hawk team, come forward."

Five Spartans strode to the front.

"For rising to a great challenge and mastering numerous skills, I award you the Spartan Honorable Unit Decoration."

The Spartans thanked him and took their place.

"Phoenix Team, come forward."

Wings stepped forward with the rest of his team.

"For incredible commitment, mastery of skill, and exceeding all possible expectations, I award you the Spartan Top Honors Decoration."

Phoenix thanked him and got back in to line.

Ezekiel-254 looked out at all 3,000 Spartans, each one decked out in the most advanced weapons and armor the UNSC could afford.

"Today you officially become Spartans. But you are not just now Spartans.  You became Spartans when you first watched your planets burn, your families slaughtered.  You became Spartans when you chose to fight.

"You have been chosen to serve, but you chose to fight. We have made you the best we could make you, but you made yourself better.

"Now go forth proudly, and fight for whatever cause you believe in!"



Wings sat on the Pelican seat, which was inbound to the super-carrier Advent.

It was two hours after the graduation, and already most of the Spartans were being called to duty. Phoenix Team was being transferred to the Advent to meet up with another Spartan team and Autel's Commandos.

"Phoenix, thirty seconds to deck."

"Aye aye."

Thirty seconds later the Pelican settled gently onto the ground and Phoenix Team grabbed their gear and hopped out.

Wings dropped his pack next to another, specially marked Pelican. Another Spartan approached him, the leader of Hawk Team, Spartan D683.

D683 saluted. "Petty Officer First Class D683 reporting for duty, sir."

Wings returned the salute. "Where's the Captain?"

"On his way down, I believe. I think he's protesting having Sangheili on board."

This was made evident when Autel and his commandos approached the assembled Spartans, when a couple dozen ODSTs around the hangar shifted and fingered their weapons when they spotted the Sangheili.

Autel walked up to Wings, and twisted his fist over his first heart.

Wings repeated the gesture, and for an instant, there was a hint of a smile on Autel's face.

"Greetings, Spartan. I trust you have been well?"

"Yes, thank you. Do you know why we're here."

Autel activated a holo-pad and a planet popped up.

"In your language, this is Alpha-Alpha-Golf. The atmosphere is fair enough for breathing, but the climate is dry, so we will require humidifiers.  Terrain consists of flat plains broken up by mountain ranges."

"What's the objective?"

"Get behind the enemy front and disrupt supply lines. Combined Marine and Separatist forces are holding at a small ridge with plenty of cover.  They should be able to hold for a long time, but the prisoners don't have a long time.  The good news is that the Covenant forces are throwing everything they have at that ridge, forcing extra shipments of energy cells from base.  We destroy the cells, the Covenant forces at the front become crippled, allowing our forces to push through to the base and initiate an artillery barrage."

Captain Warren strode up, giving the Sangheili a slight berth, and approached the two Spartan team leaders. The rest of the Spartans were beginning to get acquainted with the Sangheili Commandos, and an argument over blitzkrieg tactics began.

Wings and D683 saluted Warren, who returned the gesture. Ignoring Autel 'Vadam, who's gaze bored in to the back of Warren's head, he questioned the two Spartans about their mission. When D683 finished describing the objectives, Warren leaned in.

"I know you might think these... things are here to help, but don't trust them. Their minds are only on violence.  Do you understand?"

Wings and D683 responded in kind: "Sir, no sir."

Warren's eyes flickered, then he harrumphed and marched away.



The Pelican ride down was pleasant enough, with the Spartans and Commando Sangheili continuing their discussion on warfare tactics.

Wings and Autel sat across from each other. They hadn't talked since the Spartans had begun their augmentations, and Wings wanted to talk to him.

The on board channel opened. "Five minutes to dirt."

Wings replied. "Roger that. Prepping for dirt."

The Commandos lept out three meters above the ground and landed, hard. The Pelican dropped down to a few centimeters off the ground, to allow the ground crew to unload weapons and ammo.

Wings made sure everything on him was secure and then stood at attention to greet the approaching Lieutenant.

He saluted. "Phoenix Team reporting for duty, sir!"

Forge returned the favor. "As you were. Its good to see your team again, after Zeta-9.  Sergeant Hafsa will show you to your quarters.  Once you've stowed your gear, head to the armory, the quartermaster got a special shipment for you."

A plasma mortar sailed over some trees, and silence ensued, until it burst against a trunk, and marines dove left and right. One man got a two foot splinter through his leg, and a medic rushed to help him.

Phoenix followed the Sergeant over to a camouflaged tent, wherein they found the usual military quarters, with small lockers to put their equipment in.

Wings locked his stuff in the locker and left for the armory. He looked up to the top of the ridge, and saw ODST's and a couple Sangheili firing steadily down at unseen targets. The targets were all to happy to return fire, and plasma boiled over the edge and up, but no one even came close to being hit.

The armory was a relatively small affair, and the quartermaster, a grizzled corporal, handed him the package.

Zero looked up as Wings reentered and examined the parcel. It was knew, solid casing, completely bulletproof. He opened up the keypad and typed in his identity, then pressed his thumb to the pad, and it opened.

A chip lay inside, which Wings recognized as a neural interface. He plucked it out of the foam casing and slotted it in to the back of his helmet.

A feeling like cold mercury filled his head, and he instantly felt more alert.

"Mil AI 54892-61102 online. Greetings Spartan D339.  I am Deep Ocean."



The sneak through the jungle was uneventful, and Wings was given time to examine the numerous green plants. It was odd, all these plants alive, and yet almost no humidity. The plants themselves may be like sponges-

"Here we are."

Wing's head swung forward, and he spotted the obvious signs of hover technology. Flat dirt, not rough like erosion would have made, but flat, unbroken earth.

"How long until the next convoy?"

Autel checked his chrono. "Unknown. Satellites say they move through every 2-4 units, I suggest we rest until then."

"Agreed."



The convoy appeared two clicks out about half an hour later. By that time the ten Spartans and six Sangheili were ready to spring the trap.

The convoy was made up of four Shadows, with a Prowler leading and another following. Jiralhanae filled the Prowlers, and the bellies of the Shadows were carrying blue energy cells.

Wings held up his fist, and the commandos shifted, preparing to dive in to the fray.

The second shadow and Wings activated and tossed a fragmentation grenade in to the driver compartment. A loud scream was heard, then there was a flash, a whump, and gore sprayed out of the sides.

Zero and the two snipers fired, and the Prowler gunners dropped, hanging over the sides.

Another sniper volley and three Shadow gunners fell. By now the other Commandos were up and firing. Wings and another Sangheili concentrated on the fourth Shadow, who fell less than one second after the rest.

The Jiralhanae on the sides of the Prowlers leaped out, along with the driver in the rear vehicle. The driver in front gunned his vehicle, which popped up over the bank to make way for the front Shadow, the others being trapped behind the second one in line. Unggoy struggled to hop out of their seats as the Commandos engaged the Jiralhanae.

Peec sprinted and latched on to the lead Shadow. He clambered to the front, stuffed his SM6D in to the driver's face, and pulled the trigger.

X ducked a spiker blade swings and slammed the butt of his shotgun in to the Jiralhanae's gut, who staggered backward. He fired from the hip and the large gorilla dropped, bleeding from a dozen holes.

Zero whipped out her M7S SMG and fired a sustained burst in to a charging Brute, taking out his shields and riddling him with bullets but not quite taking him down. She rolled right and came up firing, finishing him off.

Itzia was fighting a Brute with her combat knife. She had a strangle-hold on him and was attempting to bring her knife in to his jugular. The Brute, however, wanted to live, and was bucking and kicking, trying to shake the Spartan off.

Wings ran sideways until he had a clear shot and fired in to the Brute, who flinched and allowed Itzia to bring the knife down. She then twisted and made sure the job was done.

The dust settled and most of the Jiralhanae were all dead or dying. An Unggoy attempted to run but was cut down by a carbine shot from Autel.

X got to setting small puncture charges on the energy cells while the rest stripped the weapons off the dead enemies.

The charges set, everyone moved back to watch the fireworks.

Which were spectacular, of course. Each one blew up, and superheated plasma and metal spun off in to the air, while the main bodies of the vehicles shot straight up, split in two pieces.

Once the light show was over, the Commandos moved three kilometers to the next road and waited for the next convoy.

Wings lay prone, ten meters from the next person over, and checked his MA5C again.

Something was wrongs.

His head whipped up, and he checked his vitals.

Impossible.

He began coughing, and twisted over on his back.

In between coughs he managed to gasp out: "Itzia, I need you. Now."

His vision turned black and then he knew nothing.



Itzia flinched, then stood up and started running to Wing's position.

The Sangheili with her was perplexed. "What are you doing? We're supposed to stay-"

She didn't stop. "Screw the mission."

"My squad leader just flat lined."



Bweee

"Clear."

Thump

Ow.

Bweee

"Clear."

Thump

"Ow."

"He's back. Heart rate is holding at 76."

"Good, get him up, the convoy is one click away."

Wings sat up and turned back over on his stomach.

He looked at Itzia, who had her helmet off. Her eyes looked strained. Only one reason a Spartan's eyes looked strained.

When they were scared.



The commandos returned safely back to base camp after destroying the fifth destroyed convoy. On their way back they saw Marines, ODSTs, and Sangheili pushing out from the ridge, forcing the Covenant forces back.

Hawk Team and Autel's Commandos split off upon entering the camp.

As Phoenix Team dropped their equipment off in the tent, Wings opened a secure com to Itzia.

"We need to talk."



The plants again caught Wing's attention, and he examined the leaves closer.

Sure enough, the leaves were porous, and they looked very moist.

"Why did my heart stop beating?"

"Drugs."

Wings looked up. They knew all the possible side effects of the drugs. Only one had a possible heart problem, but that was increasing the volume of the heart, not stopping it.

"What drugs do I have in my body that no other Spartan has?"

"Compound QX518-I53PR."

"That's not on the list we were given."

"Because I gave it to you."

"When?"

"When I was treating you after the Battle on Zeta-9. We got you in the ship and I was treating the burns on your back.  I found micro-burn holes that went in to your spinal cord.  After some basic nerve checking, I confirmed that you had lost all sensation in your body below the second Lumbar."

"So what does the drug you gave me do?"

"It stimulates nerve cells, allowing them to regenerate and function fully. It also happens to increase general brain activity." Here she paused.

Wings felt that tingling at the back of his mind. Danger was looming, again. "What are the side effects."

Itzia shifted her left foot back a few centimeters. "There is a calculated fifteen to twenty percent chance that the patient will develop a randomly rare condition. It seem you have developed one that randomly shuts down an organ at a random time.  Today your heart, maybe tomorrow, or next week, or next year, that organ will be your liver."

"Calculated chance?"

"This drug has never been used on a human before, its still experimental today and I gave it to you six years ago."

Wings chewed his tongue. "That was stupid, and you don't have to tell me why you did it. Don't let anyone but our team know.  If anyone else were to know, they could execute you for treasonous acts."

"I know, and I honestly don't care if they do."

Nothing more needed to be said. Itzia walked back to the tent and left Wings to muse for a while.

He did, pulling off his helmet, eating a nutri-bar, and examining the leaves.



The Interspecies Union forces pushed through the Covenant lines and made it to the base. Two days after the Commandos arrived, the Covenant were driven off the planet, and the Commandos were on their way back to the Advent.

Wings could tell that there were a lot fewer Marines that were angry at the Sangheili, as they swarmed the Commandos with congratulations.

The taking of the planet had been costly. Wraiths had pounded the ridge, and many Marines and Sangheili had been wounded or killed on it. The Commando's arrival signaled the cutting of a several month long slog in to a three day blitzkrieg. Apparently the Spartans had won the tactical debate with the Sangheili Commandos.

Chapter 8: Side Effects
1638 Hours, October 17th, 2568 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Fira 'Demal stalked the corridors of the Rebirth, a Separatist Cruiser. He toyed with the Energy Sword clamped to his thigh and clicked his mandibles.

He longed to return to the fight, but no. He was assigned to the Cruiser in preparation for a joint operation with humans. Spartans, no less, the ones who had slaughtered many from his line. The 'Demal state was still recovering.

The com implanted in his ear hole beeped, and a channel opened.

"Ultra Fira 'Demal, report to hangar 2. Prepare for arrival of humans and SpecOps Sangheili."

"Acknowledged." He moved off to greet the scum.



The Phantom glided smoothly in to the hangar, and the side hatches opened. Phoenix dropped two meters to the ground alongside Autel's commandos, helmets off.

Autel smiled and greeted the Silver clad Sangheili closest to the dropship. He was obviously a friend.

Wings stepped forward and learned that the Ultra was a Sangheili named Fira 'Demal, and that he had been Autel's good friend in training.

As he turned back to his team, he saw Peec's eyes locked on to Fira, and an icy cold glint entered them.

Something was definitely wrong, so Wings ordered the team to get the supplies out of the dropship, making sure Peec was away from Fira.



Fira did not miss the ice cold glare from the Spartan, and knew that he had a problem.

His mind flashed to a burning town, his burning blade ripping through human flesh, blood splashing against his feet.

A small child staring up at him, uncomprehending of what was happening to his family.

He remembered hearing the announcement through his com that the Prophets had betrayed them, that the humans were now allies.

And he was stunned, everything he knew came crashing down on him.

And then the building came crashing down on him, and the child was gone.

Now he felt he was staring at the same child, grown to a warrior, one of the best the humans could put forward.

His memories flew back farther, to when hundreds of members of his family met several dozen of these Spartans on the battlefield, and were slaughtered.

He knew the Spartan had a right to hate him.

He just wasn't so sure he deserved to hate him anymore.



Peec slammed his locker door a bit harder than usual, and Wings watched him. His body language told him he was still tense, about as close to blowing up as a Spartan could get.

Peec saw Wings examining him, nodded stiffly, and they both walked out.

The hangar they walked in to was devoid of other beings, and only contained several Phantoms and two dozen Ghosts. Wings walked over, sat on the back, and examined the controls. He'd never used one, and had only studied the control interfaces. He was able to recognize everything, steering, accelerometer, weapons trigger-

"That Elite killed my family."

Wings looked back up at Peec. He was standing straight, legs slightly splayed, arms crossed. His helmet was off, and his head was tilted to the left, face stony.

"And you survived."

"I was about three years old."

"And you only remember it because of the memory boosters we were given with our food."

"Yes."

"And you want to kill him."

"Yes."

"Fira 'Demal, of the Demal lineage. You were the one who researched the Sangheili, do you know about them?"

"No. I researched their culture, economics, physiology.  I researched them to understand them, you were the one who researched how to defeat them."

"The 437 Demal members met 36 Alpha Company Spartans on a small moon around 2536. Four Spartans were killed, nineteen were injured.  361 Demal members died, the rest were left injured.  About 50 died after the battle while under treatment."

"So he has reason to hate us because our forerunners slaughtered his family."

"Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?"

"When he saw you, and you turned away and left his field of vision, he didn't move. The only reason for doing that is that he remembered the night he killed your parents.  He also remembers how the Spartans decimated his family.

"You hate him because he killed your family.

"He hates us because we killed his family.

"His problem is that he's not sure he has the right to be angry anymore."

Peec's arms fell to his sides. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Wings sighed and sat straighter. "Take it out on him before it becomes a problem. It'll keep you sane when you have to save his life."

Peec turned around and began walking away, and Wings went back to examining the controls. "We have four days before we reach the battle zone."

The corner of Wing's mouth twitched up for a split second as he reached for a Nutri-Bar. I'm sure this place will be a battle zone before we reach the planet.



''My stomach, for a start. Already feels like a Shiva warhead detonated inside...''

"Itzia, I need gastric steroids."

"On my way."

On the plus side, the way he fell left him free to examine the interface on the Ghost. Unfortunately, he was done examining them. He reached his arm up and pushed, twisting on to his back, then pushed against the floor to bring himself up to a sitting position.

The door binged open, and Itzia marched in with a small bag. She knelt next to him and pulled out a syringe.

"Hold still." And she stabbed him.

He felt the liquid drip in to his stomach and stimulate gastric acid production. His stomach hadn't been working for a while now, and had emptied of all gastric acid. The Nutri-Bar had hit his stomach after being chewed and started to cut his stomach, causing massive pain that resulted in a minor blackout. The gastric steroids also caused the lining to grow faster, which would reduce the pain. However, it would still hurt like a son of a bitch for a while, but he could eat again.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Have you gotten any new information on why this would happen?"

"Only that the Nerve Growth Factors inherent in the cells injected in to you can concentrate in one area an even higher rate of growth. This increases pressure on other areas, affecting a system that area controls, or increases electrical activity unevenly, resulting in an unbalancing of those systems."

"So nothing yet."

"Unless you want to either try fatal doses of radiation, which would work, but you'd die and I wouldn't let you do anyway, or massive doses of this compound, then no. Nothing."

"Then that doesn't mean the compound doesn't work, it just isn't complete to the extent it should be. The way it works is just like splatter painting.  You flick a brush with paint on it and hope it hits right.  While it makes the whole canvas appear more colorful, some areas look better and some look worse.  What you would need is something that would spread the paint over the entire canvas evenly, like a wide brush.  Except I don't know what the medical equivalent of the wide brush would be."

Itzia put the supplies away and looked thoughtful for a minute. Then she got up. "I'll see if I can find out."

Wings got up and followed her out, back to the room, and the team.



0917 Hours, October 18th, 2568 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Fira and Peec saw each other again during the visit to the bridge of the ship.

Phoenix was finishing their examination of the weapons system, and were turning to leave. Peec turned and spotted the Ultra standing guard at the exit to the bridge. He stood stock still, and that icy look came over him. The Sangheili returned the look.

Wings stepped in his way. "Peec. Lets go."

As Phoenix passed Fira, Fira turned his head to examine Peec.

"I wonder if you Spartans squeal like the regular humans."

Peec stopped and turned to face him. "I wonder how many members of your family screamed when they died."

Fira growled, and Peec's jaw tightened. Fira spoke next.

"Now I have another reason as to why the Prophets wanted you dead."

Peec didn't flinch. "And yet it was a human, a Spartan no less, who discovered that you were all being lied too."

Fira didn't flinch either.

Wings put his hand on Peec's shoulder, and the Spartans turned and left.

Up on the bridge deck, Autel folded his arms.

1951 Hours, October 18th, 2568 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Fira clicked the magnetic coil in to place. The Ghost's weapons had been damaged and the entire contraption needed to be replaced.

He closed the casing and clicked the interface.

Green, good, he was done.

He straightened and turned to leave.

The Spartan was standing there, arms folded over his chest, his head slightly bowed.

Fira blinked, and his shields charged to full. He didn't have his energy sword, but he never let his Needler out of his reach. His fingers slowly slid towards it.

"Killing me won't change what happened to you."

The Spartans helmet blocked his face, but Fira knew a Sangheili would be smiling.

"I'm not worried about seeing my family again."

His arms unfolded, and Fira saw the glint of a long combat knife.

"But I want to make sure they can tell me how long you screamed."



Wings and Autel walked down the corridor.

"Peec is not mentally stable," Wings said. "He's been very agitated lately."

"Fira never liked humans," Autel said. "And particularly not Spartans." Wings sighed.

"Fira, your friend, personally killed his family...seconds before the war ended. Right in front of Peec."

"We shall endeavor to keep a closer eye on them," Autel said. "However, I'm sure Fira won't do anything drastic."

"No, but Peec I'm not so sure about."

Something slammed hard into the next room's door, and it split partially, revealing the room beyond.

Wings and Autel exchanged glances, and both dashed towards the door. Debris was strewn about, and Wings saw Peec fly across his field of vision.

Autel strained to open the door. Wings helped him, and saw that Fira pulled a Needler on Peec. The Spartan whipped out his SM6D.

Wings moved fast. He grabbed Fira's wrist and the Needler, attempting to pin the Sangheili Ultra down.

Autel stepped in front of Peec. Peec aimed right through Autel.

"Get out of the way, Autel."

Autel looked down at the young warrior. "I won't let you kill my friend."

A single round discharged, shimmering against his shields.

"Stand down, Spartan!" barked Wings.

Peec reluctantly holstered his sidearm. However, Fira was still trying to get to him. Autel grabbed him by the shoulders, and said, "Stop."

The Ultra ignored him, trying to wrench the Needler from Wings' grasp.

"Stop!" Autel snarled, and for the first time Wings thought he sounded angry. He noticed that the red in his friend's eyes had deepened. Fira growled, but stopped struggling.

Wings released Fira and turned to Peec.

Peec was staring at Fira. Wings followed his line of sight and spotted the knife buried to the hilt in Fira's rib cage. The Sangheili was struggling to breath, and purple blood had started to foam around his mandibles.

Wings looked back at Peec.

"Got it out of your system?"

Peec turned and walked out.



Wings met Autel outside the Med Bay a few hours later.

"How is he?"

Autel turned away from the window to face Wings.

"He lost quite a bit of blood, but his lung is repaired and he'll be able to fight when we get to the destination."

Wings nodded and looked through the window. A Huragok hovered over a naked Fira 'Demal, slowly stitching his rib cage back together.

Autel turned back to the window. "You truly are a good leader."

"Why do you think that?"

"Your Spartan would have killed me before he would have listened to me, but he instantly stopped when you ordered him to."

"He's been trained to listen to me. I would expect nothing less."

Autel looked at Wings. "Have you ever had reason to seek revenge on someone?"

"No."

"I have, and there were only two creatures that could have stopped me from killing the one who murdered my mother."

"Just because he trusts me doesn't make me a good leader."

"He doesn't just trust you, he trusts you implicitly. He won't just put off a revenge killing for you, he'll jump in front of any weapon, fight any enemy or ally, just to make sure you live.  That is more than just trust, that is love.  He loves you, as do all your teammates, and you love them back.  That is what makes you a good leader.  The ability to make anyone fight for you because they know you'll get them out."

Wings dropped his chin to his chest and folded his arms, taking this in.

Autel then asked him, "Do you know how many Helljumpers went to help you when you were injured on Zeta-9?"

"No."

"Almost everyone who saw you go down, including about a dozen Sangheili. Because you risked your team, and mine, in the base in order to save hundreds of lives.  They owed it to you.  While that in itself does not make you a good leader, its one of the qualities of a good leader."

"I know."

"It is always good to hear it from a friend, yes?"

Wings examined the albino Sangheili's red eyes, and the corners of his mouth shifted slightly upward.

"Yes."

Autel smiled and turned back to the window. The Huragok was finishing up and applying antibiotics to the wound.

"Why did you care about Randall?"

This question seemed to surprise Autel, who blinked a couple times.

"I don't know. He looked in to my eyes before he lost his grip and fell to his death at the hands of Lekgolo.  I don't know what happened, but he didn't hate me.  I think he saw respect, because that's what I felt."

"And he saw that you didn't hate him. You weren't raised like most Sangheili."

Autel clicked his mandibles. "No, I was not.

Chapter 9: Fledgling
0943 Hours, October 21st, 2568 (UNSC Military Calendar)