RP:Battle of Draco III/Content

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Prologue
//UNSC RESEARCH COMPLEX -WHITE FANG- SOUTHERN LOMBARD REGION// August 1st, 2545, 0700 Hours, Military Calender//

When xenoarchaeologist Fredric R. Ross stepped out of the Pelican drop-ship, the bright early morning sun blinded his vision momentarily. When his vision cleared he could see rolling hills and forests for miles and miles. He did not get much time to look around but he could tell that this was in the middle of no-where. Moments later, two ONI operators were ushering him forward. The ONI Agents were not wearing any combat armor, but were simply in civilian clothes with gray jackets, and they wielded MA5K Assault Carbines and wore HUD Implemented black sunglasses with ear-pieces. The escorted him to a set of doors, that were down a small flight of stars leading off the only landing pad that was visible. When they approached the doors, one retrieved a key-card and swiped it on the door controls, a small blue sensor then protruded from the center of the panel and he brought his eyes to it. The sensor flashed once, then a sharp metallic click was audible from the other side of the door. It opened. An inside, shrouded by the white, florescent light, was a man in a white lab coat, he was flanked by two armed guards, who were also dressed in the same attire as his companions.

“Welcome to the White Fang Complex.” The man said, “There is much you need to know, my name is Ivan, there is no need for last names, we probably won't know each other for long.”

Fredric and Ivan were then left by the guards and commenced walking down the long well lit corridor. They walked down stairs and hallways for around 15 minuets, in complete silence, they then came to a dead end. Ivan brushed the clean-white-concrete wall with his finger, and the wall slid open. The space inside was dark, and there was an elevator. They stood on it, and without any of them doing anything, it then began to descend into the darkness below. It was completely dark for what seemed like an eternity, but then, light flooded through the wire-mesh windows surrounding them. Fredric could see a massive structure built inside of this cavern, it was gray and had streaks of blue light emitting itself from the gaps in the smooth, hieroglyphic covered surface. The cavern ceiling must have been at least five kilometers in height, and the structure was also massive, and it appeared that half of it was concealed in the rock behind it.

“We unearthed the thing about five months ago, it's not Covenant or Human in design.” Ivan said, “It took us two weeks to cut into the entrance, inside we found something.”

Fredric was shocked, and asked, “What did you find?” to which the man replied, “You'll see...”

The Lift reached the bottom of its descent. Both men stepped out, and began walking toward the structure. “This thing is massive.” Fredric thought to himself. Both of them began to near the front entrance of the massive temple-like structure. “We found it emitting a very weak signal and dug down to find this cavern,” Evan said “When we got inside, we found this object, it was some sort of device, it was infused with a type of crystal.”

They neared the UNSC placed doors to the interior of the structure, and stopped. “Sam! Let us in!” Ivan yelled into the Intercom placed on the door. “Hold your horses, I was just running a diagnostic on the object we foun-” the intercom started to reply but Ivan cut him off, “I don't care! Look I have the lead we were waiting on standing right beside me! Let us in!”

The doors opened, and they both stepped inside. They made their way down the clean, metallic, blue lit corridors, to a massive room, in the center on a podium sat the object. It was Shaped like a cigar, and was transparent, it was half-way encased in a metal wrap around frame that looked like twisting vines of gray metal with lines of turquoise, criss-crossing around it. The object was about the size of a Motor-Cycle. In the corner was a man in a flowing white trench coat, standing behind a mass of computer monitors and machines. Fredric didn't notice how cold it was down here until now, on the surface it was around 80 degrees Fahrenheit, (27 Celsius), and in here it felt close to freezing. This is it, “We've looked at your fields and thought you would best know what this is.” The man in the corner, who Fredric know assumes is Sam, said.

“Can I touch it?” Fredric asks. “Sure, knock your-self out, it hasn't done anything since we found it.” Ivan replies. Fredric stepped toward it, and began to examine it. It was covered in fine hieroglyphs that were of such high definition that it would be near impossible for a human to replicate. He noticed that they were placed in seemingly random places on the crystal portion of the object. He rand his fingers down the side of the smooth surface. He didn't feel the engravings that he saw, so they must be etched INSIDE of the object. Looking closer, Fredric realized that, it was not covered in hieroglyphs, but it was an expanded view of a galaxy! Then he realized it was the Milky Way Galaxy! He ran his hand down the side, and named planets and systems as he saw them, “Reach, Earth, Tribute, Harvest, Skopje, Coral Sea...New Harmony..." then he found the planet that they were on, Draco III. He touched the etching where Draco III was located on the crystal with his hand, and then the room suddenly went dark. “What the hell?” Ivan began, “What is happening, Sam find out wh-” Fredric interrupted him, “Its a map of some kind...” The object began to emit a blue light and begun to rise off the ground, spinning on it's axis, faster and faster and faster, then, a blinding flash of blue light flooded the room.

When they could see again, they noticed that the object was projecting a holographic star-map of the Milky Way Galaxy all across the room. “It's amazing!” Ivan proclaimed, “Look! There's Reach, and there's Tribute!”. Fredric walked around the holographic displays floating in the air around him. When he approached Draco III's Star, he touched it with his hand. The whole display turned from blue, to red, and a loud, high pitched whine began to come from the object. “What did you do!” Evan yelled over the noise, “Sam, seal the doors!” Fredric could tell from what he saw on the displays, that this place was some sort of transmission center, a kind of radio post. The noise stopped and the object slammed to the ground, the holographic symbols disappeared.

“Sam! What the hell just happened!” Ivan demanded. Sam replied “I don't know! It emitted some kind of sub-radiation frequency, and according to my systems, it still is!” Ivan demanded, his voice angry, “Explain!”. “According to my data, the frequency it's now emitting can be picked up on certain band-widths that can be picked up in both Slip-Space and Normal Void for at LEAST...one light year in every direction!”. “Does that mean the Covenant could pick it up?” Fredric asked, “If so we need to shut it down.”. “Yes, they can pick this band-width up, it's actually their exact band-width that they use for ship-to-ship communications” Sam replied, “We need to shut it down, and shut it down NOW!”. Ivan spoke up, "Sam, alert FLEET-COM, inform them that they should bring their combat clearance to priority Alpha, we won't be alone for long."

(Shortly After This Event ONI Personel Moved The Object To The City Of New Albany And Stored It Inside An ONI Office That Will Be Described At a Later Date.)

1
//UNSC ORBITAL STAGING AREA OBOVE LOMBARD REGION, August 2nd, 2545 <0600 Hours>\\

Captain J. Foster stood on the deck of his flagship, the UNSC Pride, gazing out into the black veil of space that lay outside the bridge's frontal view port. He watched a small number of malnourished and over-exhibited UNSC Battlegroups maneuver lazily in the orbit of Draco III. Changing their headings and rotating formation cycles, swapping jobs and positions with other ships in the fleet. Dozens of Orbital Defense Platforms hung on the horizon, drifting very slightly in their geosynchronous orbit above their power complexes dotted on the planet's surface. Civilian freighters escorted by Longsword-Fighters, shuttled food and resupply materials to UNSC ships in orbit. In one secluded area, a support ship hauls a crippled and burned UNSC Frigate.

“Sir, Fleet Admiral Smith has authorized system patrol sweep rotation for 0605 hours.” a young ensign by the name of Silvia declared “He is ordering us to rotate with Rear Admiral Chase's Destroyer Squadron at minimal orbit grid, Sierra-Five-Three-Two-Charlie, with a 'Y' climb of 14,000 Kilometers...” Captain Foster replied to the young ensign sitting at Communications, “Ensign, forward attached vectors to the rest of the Battlegroup, as well as Navigation and Helm,” Foster turned his body toward the crew, in specific the crewman at navigation, “Lieutenant Cross, get us moving, two-thirds power, strolling pace.” The ship then began to slightly rumble. The UNSC Pride turned away from the blue and green, lush planet that is Draco III, and began to move at a decent speed.

“Aye, Sir.” Several minuets passed, and Ensign Silvia, the young officer manning communications, spoke “Sir, Rear Admiral Chase's Destroyers have made E-Band Contact, they're coming about on our bow...they are confirming orders, we can proceed, Sir.” Foster replied, “Cross, transition to standard orbital patrol vector package.” Cross replied, “Aye, Captain, S-O-P-V confirmed.” Lately, Draco III's system was suffering from a lack of probe stations and slipspace monitoring installations, things that UNSC Naval Personnel find to be very important for in-system operations. So every cycle a handful of ships is sent out on a standardized patrol route around the system, this is now a now normal routine for most ships in the system.

(0755 Hours) Around two hours later.

Battlegroup Pride was now very far away from the planet Draco III and the orbital defenses surrounding it. Captain Foster approached the holotank standing in the center of the bridge, a holographic figure appeared on one of the pedestals. The figure was a broad shouldered, older male with a long white beard, wearing blue robes, trimmed with gold and covered in symbols of cogs and sprockets. His name was Lyons, he was the ship's on-board A.I. He had been on the ship a long while, and he had not yet shown a sign of rampancy in his years of life, he instead grew greatly in human-wisdom, offering the crew emotional lectures via the ships PA system. He stood tall and retrieved a pocket watch from his robe pocket, opened it, looked at it momentarily before he snapped it shut and returned it to his robe.

“Captain, things are running normal.” Lyons said, his tone calm and warm, “Engineering is reporting that the Secondary﻿ power coupling is misaligned by 0.7 microns, they're working on it now.”, “Good, keep monitoring this area for any sub-transmission-frequency bounces, and boost receiver input by five.” Captain Foster replied, as he sat down in his captains chair, “And keep me updated on the positions on the rest of the fleet.” Lyons looked up calmly, “Expecting trouble sir?” Lyons asked, and Foster replied to him, “Admiral's orders Lyons, something weird must of happened recently, and it has the brass all jumpy all of a sudden.” “I understand Captain, I will keep you posted.” Lyons replied, before his avatar blinked off.

The Battlegroup accelerated through the system, past small bits of particles and mass, illuminated with a faint violet glow, the planet of Draco III now a blue dot in the distance, and its sun casting long streaking shadows throughout the fleet. They continued for a while, then adjusted course, and turned to their starboard side to begin the battlegroup's elliptical patrol pattern around the system. Foster was just about to relinquish control of the bridge to his XO, to leave and get breakfast from the ships mess hall, when a notification beep sounded from the communications station.

“Sir, we picked up a whisper, 300,000 Kilometers of wave reception.” Ensign Silvia spoke, voice uneasy, “It's on a Ship to Ship bandwidth. . .”

“Analyze it, and forward it to the UNSC Haskell for them to look at it.” Captain Foster replied, “Keep listening.” “Sir, we picked up another echo sir, same location, forwarding it to your data-pad now.” Silvia said once more, “I'm still listening to that location.”

“Goo-” Foster was cut off,

“Another one sir!” Silvia said, voice filled with alertness, “This is definitely coming from a vessel, it's to scrambled to decode, but it doesn't sound UNSC or Human so far, sir!”

“Ensign, send me all attached packets containing the signals we picked up, I need to compile them for the Admiral.”

“Aye, sir.” Silvia Spoke

Captain Foster then began to filter the times they picked up the echos, and he then proceed to upload them from his data from his tablet to his chair's fold out console. He typed the needed clearance codes to send the files to Fleet Command, but when he attempted to send the packets, he was met with an error message that stated "UNABLE TO SEND TRAFFIC".

“Lyons, what is this?” Foster asked,

“Signal interference, it appears that something is preventing us from transmitting long range communications.” Lyons spoke through the bridge speakers,

“Clean it up.” Foster Ordered, “This is urgent.”

“Aye,sir” Lyons replied, and moments later he spoke, “I've narrowed it down to two things sir, it can either be a solar flare, or a generated jamming signal, and seeing that we're not near this systems main mass body. . . the second one is most likely. . .”

“Are you certain?” Foster asked.

“Positive sir,” Lyons replied, “100%”

Just as he was about to speak again, the ensign at the sensor monitoring station spoke, “Sir! Possible slipspace contacts! Bearing 240! Close sir, damn close!”'

“Charge MAC Capacitors for all ships, and arm Archers A-H front.” Captain Foster turned to weapons and spoke, “Safeties off on all ordnance.”

“Aye, Sir!”

There was no way this could be a human contact, Foster had a copy of all orbital shipping operations for the sector, and no ship was cleared this day for slipspace entry.

“Inform the Battlegroup.” Foster commanded “Lieutenant Cross! I want you to write a reverse thrust vector, bring the Battlegroup around 180 degrees and make a dash for the Draco III orbital defense grid.” “Aye, Sir!”

As the ships in the battlegroup started to begin their maneuvering, sudden streaks of light, blue cracks and whirling wisps of blue-purple aurora broke the fabric of space ahead of the UNSC ships. Large circular slipspace exit-portals appeared, and multiple Covenant ships exited into normal space within visual range of the UNSC battlegroup. The force consisted of four Covenant corvettes, and a single CCS-Class Battlecruiser.

“Lyons! Force adjustment!” Captain Foster spoke, “Inform the UNSC Northcut, and the UNSC Bring It, to keep turning and dash to Draco III!”

“Aye, sir. .. and the rest of the battlegroup?” Lyons asked,

“Have them follow my lead,” Foster replied, voice defiant, “I want group firing solutions for each ship, heavy tonnage on that cruiser!”

“Sir! Covenant ships are showing no power signatures to their weapons! They're shields are on low power also!” an officer sitting at sensors proclaimed, “They're still recovering from the jump!”

“Close in! We have them with their pants down!” Foster spoke. “I want to be sure we hit them were it hurts.”

The remaining seven ships of the battlegroup moved closer and closer to the dark, shark-like, Covenant vessels, as they closed in, the Covenant ships slowly began to turn to face the UNSC ships, but their speed was hindered by the lack of power allocated to their engines. Only the faster corvettes could turn to face the UNSC ships, and within moments the group was within 18 Kilometers of the Covenant line, dangerously close by naval terms.

“Frigate line, target the corvettes, cruisers target that capital ship, UNSC Redline clean up whatever is left!” Foster spoke over the comm, “Fire MAC ordnance on my mark...”

“Fire!” Captain Foster proclaimed, and the Pride shuddered.

Three UNSC frigates fired on three of the four Covenant Corvettes, the destroyer targeted the remaining corvette, and all three UNSC Cruisers fired twin MAC salvos into the port side of the sluggish Covenant Cruiser. Seven cracks of thunder reverberated through the UNSC ships, as MAC slugs impacted the Covenant line. At this range, six MAC slugs impacted the Covenant cruiser, punching through her weak shields, and crumpling her armor, causing her to tumble, side over side, away from the line before her reactor detonated, and the ship vaporized. The corvettes met a quick defeat, all of them took their MAC rounds through their bows, leaving the ship's husks hanging in the darkness. ..

“Adjust headings!” Captain Foster spoke his voice triumphant, “Get us back to the UNSC line, reactor outputs at 120 percent!”

''A representation of the Battlegroup's extremely close engagement distance. (Click to enlarge image.)''

(POSTING IS OPEN-- Captain J. Foster, UNSC Navy. 22:37, April 27, 2012 (UTC)

2
Henry McNair sat at the terminal in his private quarters aboard the UNSC Pride. The bothersome beeping that had warned him of an incoming Covenant attack had finally stopped, allowing him to return to his conversation.

"So, like I said, we're probably getting deployed groundside soon, can't stay long"

The other man, also clad in the black armour of an ODST, nodded. "Well, we're on Kurovan at the moment with Sigma. Can't say where we're going next"

McNair frowned. "That's the Spartan Team, right?"

"Yes, and I know how you feel about them"

"Can you blame me? That incident back in '25? I was there, Mack. They may make good soldiers, but I don't trust a single one of them"

"If you say so, McNair. I'll let you go now. Good luck on your next drop" The comlink switched to black as another alarm sounded somewhere else on the ship. Sighing, the veteran trooper scooped up his helmet with his robotic arm and stood up, walking out into the hallway.

Time to check on the troops.

-Brodie-001

The Storm Approaches
August 2nd, 2545, (0850 Hours)

Aboard The UNSC Pride, Draco III System, Orbital Defense Sector Above The Planet.

By the time Battlegroup Pride entered pattern in the Draco III Orbital Defense Grid, UNSC Ships were already massing. Ground evacuation had begun, and UNSC Army assets were called from their garrisons to begin the process of moving thousands off the planet. Everyone knew that the Covenant would be there soon.

"Sir, the Northcut and the Bring It have linked up with the battlegroup." Lyons spoke.

"Good." Foster replied, "What's the word on the Covenant postions?"

"Still only pinging small contacts on the edge of the system..." Lyons said, "Probes identify silhouettes as recon craft, most likely placing slipspace beacons."

"Understood, and what are the current orders from the Admiral?" Captain Foster asked.

"He is organizing all ships into a defensive line, and placing them into staggered wall, far in front of the MAC Platforms." Lyons said, "Not what I would have done personally, but he wants to protect the Carriers and Transports shuttling civilians from Draco. . . very thoroughly. . . Also, he requested all ODST and orbital based ground assets aboard UNSC vessels go on high alert."

"I see. Give word to the 105th ODST's Officers that they need to be set for a possible combat drop." Foster spoke, "And get us to the Admiral's requested position, brisk pace."

The Pride rumbled as the battlegroup moved, shark-like among the mass of maneuvering UNSC ships. They soon came upon their designated spot alongside many other UNSC warships. The defensive pattern truly was a staggered wall that wrapped around the curvature of the battleclusters of MAC Platforms. The gaps between each ship was large enough for the platforms to fire on targets, but small enough that a ship could use itself as a sort of shield for the stationary defense platforms. The battlegroup had only been in position for a short time when the officers in charge of the fleet gave word that the Covenant are fast approaching, and using pinpoint slipspace jumps to get the jump on some ships straggling beyond the defensive line. And with a sudden flash of light, the Covenant fleet appeared in-front of the UNSC ships just outside firing range for the Orbital Gun's Super MAC rounds. It consisted of at least a dozen CCS class battlecruisers, two carriers, a dozen destroyers and 15 frigates, and a tally of 50'something ships in all not including smaller craft like corvettes and fighters, in comparison to the UNSC's forces totaling around 80 ships, the odds were in the Covenant favor.

"Sir, fleet firing solutions are ready." Lyons informed, "The Admiral will give the firing order, then all ships will engage at will.

"I understand, sound general quarters, Lyons." Foster said, "Sensors, what is the reading on their power levels?"

"Large amounts of energy to weapons for all Covenant vessels, save for one."

"And that one is?" asked Captain Foster.

"A carrier sir, their power is to engines."

"I wonde--" Foster was interrupted.

"Slipspace ruptures, off the target's bows!" The officer at Sensor spoke, "They're jumping sir!"

The Covenant fleet disappeared, then reappeared moments later, very close to the UNSC ships. Simultaneous streaks of blue light cut and burned a handful of UNSC vessels within seconds, but almost instantly afterward, the Covenant ships were met with volley of 12 Super MAC rounds from the platforms in orbit close enough to fire. The tungsten rounds tore through hulls and shields and sent six Covenant cruisers tumbling, only three regained control. When the Admiral gave the fire order, multiple cracks of thunder, louder then anything imaginable to people not in the Navy, bellowed throughout the interiors of the UNSC warships. The UNSC line, now semi-scattered, and tangled with Covenant ships fired their Magnetic Accelerator Cannons near point blank into the Covenant ships. Shields flared, hulls burned. The Covenant had lost around 20 ships so far, and a dozen were crippled, but still among the carnage, two Covenant destroyers, and a Cruiser grouped together, and formed a sort of spear head in front of a single Covenant Carrier. The Covenant ships around the carrier, and the rest of the Covenant fleet lashed out in unison, firing dozens of massive plasma torpedoes and hundreds of blasts from point defense laser batteries, then the carrier and it's escorts began to steam full speed toward the planet. Blue and red balls of plasma struck a dozen UNSC ships, specifically cruisers and destroyers, boiling away layers of armor plate, and many breaching reactor cores, causing massive explosions within the vessels. The Covenant ships blew past the remains of the UNSC line, which was now locked in brutal "Fist-Fight" style combat with the remainder of the Covenant fleet.

"Sir! The UNSC Clementine and the UNSC Daring Venture are pursuing those ships, they are requesting our assistance, they're going to deploy ODST's to the planet's surface!" The officer at Comms spoke. "The Admiral gave us the green light to do the same, as long as the rest of the battlegroup stays behind to guard the clusters."

"Lyons, give word to the Amestris that they are temporary flagship," Foster said quickly, "Get us linked with the Clementine and the Venture, reactor's at 120%!"

The Pride broke away from the carnage to pursue the Covenant ships, and to deploy ODST's on the planet's surface. But as it broke away, a single Covenant cruiser launched a pair of plasma torpedoes at the ship. They began to track the ship. The Pride, now being chased by twin bolts of red plasma, gained on the two UNSC cruisers pursuing the Covenant carrier and it's sleek bodyguards. The carrier was almost to the planet's gravity well, and was within spitting distance of a orbital defense platform cluster, when the two destroyer escorts then broke away from the speeding carrier, (which was now out pacing its slower cruiser companion), and turned to face its UNSC pursuers.

"Hail the Clementine and the Venture, inform them to fire on the destroyers around the carrier, the ODF platforms will deal with that cruiser." Foster spoke to lyons, "Tell them that the carrier's going too fast for platforms or us to do anything about it.

Three blasts from the nearby MAC Platforms flattened the straggling Covenant cruiser and sent it careening into the planet's atmosphere, and another three fired at the carrier, but the shots missed by a mile, in space combat terms it could of been millimeters.

With the UNSC Pride now along side the other two UNSC pursuers, he spoke to Lyons, "With those Torpedoes still tracking we can't do much but run straight ahead. . ."

The UNSC Pride and the cruisers, UNSC Clementine and the UNSC Daring Venture, flanked by two plasma torpedoes, were now fast approaching the two stationary Covenant destroyers, now halted side by side in the nearby Orbital defense platforms' blind spots. Their prows then began to glow a sharp red, and Moments later they launched a total of four plasma torpedoes toward the oncoming UNSC ships. The Clementine then fired it's twin Mass Accelerator Cannons, and struck the left most destroyer in the nose, punching it's shields out and crippling her. The Venture did the same, with the same results, but the torpedoes still tracked the UNSC cruisers. The Clementine, and the Venture collided head on with the lances of plasma, taking the blow so that the UNSC Pride may have a clear shot at the destroyers.

"Sir, Covie ships are crippled!" the crew at Sensors spoke "However, the Clementine has been lost and the Venture is barely operational."

"Helm! Force Course Correction! We're going to go right between the two filthy bastards, and graze them with their ally's own ordnance." Foster spoke. "Plot us a vector, Lyons."

The Pride sped between the burning pair of UNSC cruisers, and accelerated right between the two lifeless Covenant destroyers, which were now hanging side by side, struggling to maneuver in time. Engine cones flaring the Pride lead the following plasma torpedoes right into the Covenant ships, the three ships almost collided but missed each-other by meters, they detonated with the lances of white-hot plasma, and burned, before venting atmosphere and tumbling into the planet, leaving only small remains of hull hanging in the black of space.

"Reverse thrust! Drop forward power output to 0%, we're going into the gravity well!" Foster said, and the ship lurched forward, and he almost lost his footing.

The Pride slowed and came to a crawl, catching itself in orbit of Draco III, the massive ship drifted slightly as the Covenant Carrier disappeared in front of them, descending to the surface.

Foster asked, "Where were the Clementine and Venture deploying their ground forces, Lyons?"

"New Albany, Lombard Region." Lyons replied, "Oh and look, that's where that carrier want, according to the city's superintendent, its deployed it's grav-lift just outside of the city's air defensive systems."

"Get us there, when we're over the drop zones, sound the deployment for the 105th, we need to get them down there, quick." Foster said, before sighing. "We've had very good luck so far, Lyons, I mean. . . jumping a Covenant scouting troop, killing two destroyers. . . I hope our luck isn't about to run out. . . "

-- Captain J. Foster, UNSC Navy. 23:29, April 30, 2012 (UTC)

1
Commodore Torkamentov walked across the bridge of the UNSC Siren’s Call with the confidence of a man who knew that he belonged there. Torkamentov had spent a long time in the Navy, and had worked his way up through the ranks. Finally, he had been given command of a Battleship. Now, he was making sure that he avenged his family and that the Covenant were made to pay.

“Commodore, we’re receiving a distress call from Draco. It appears that they are under attack from a large Covenant force. The UNSC Pride is resisting, but they need assistance.”

Torkamentov walked over to the Captain’s chair. “Right, send them a response, and tell them that we are on our way to assist.”

The comm’s officer nodded and set to typing onto his computer. Torkamentov looked across the bridge and brought up a star map. “Alright. Set a course for the Dracos Colony and ready all guns. Let’s roll.”

Out in the void of space, the Siren’s Call vanished in a flash of light as its slipspace drive was engaged.

=

Veraak snarled in disgust at the Kig-Yar officer that he was staring down. There had been intolerable delays in the deployment of his armored brigade, and this piece of meat was to blame. He didn’t know how that one had gotten his position, but he obviously had inadequate training and no skill.

“May the Demons take you,” he snarled.

The Kig-Yar looked back unperturbed. “Sir, I have done everything I can to facilitate the movement of your armored division. If certain circumstances prevented its quick movement, that is not my fault.

Veraak had to resist the urge to tear the Kig-Yars head from his body right at that moment. After subduing his rage, he gave a response in a tone of iron control. “Very well. Move as fast as you are able. If any of my tanks are lost to the heretics because we could not get onto the field fast enough, I will hold you personally responsible.”

The Kig-Yar shrugged to itself and wandered away, leaving Veraak to stew in his anger. He felt the desperate urge to lash out at something, but constrained his anger to save it for the human heretics. The time would come, soon enough.

-Azecreth 16:27, May 2, 2012 (UTC)

2
Private Ash Mitchell sat on a crate in the Pride's main crew bay, watching his fellow 'Helljumpers' running past in preparation for battle. He himself had only passed through the brutal training regimen required to join the elite unit a few weeks earlier. This would be his first drop. Mitchell nudged the trooper next to him.

"Hey Mal, you think we're gonna see some action this time?"

The other trooper grunted. Like Mitchell and several other ODST's, his armour was new. Clean. They were the rookies of the unit. Mal Roberts removed his helmet and rubbed his eyes.

"I was sleeping, Ash"

"Sorry. You think we'll get to kill some covvies?"

"Maybe. Who's the boss of this unit, anyway? I heard he's some kind of badass?"

Mitchell shrugged. Shortly after the new ODST's had been brought aboard to bolster the ranks of the depleted platoon, he had been hearing rumours about the man in charge of the ship's Helljumper contingent. he tapped a passing trooper on the shoulder. It was Sergeant Temple, the NCO of his squad.

"Sarge, I've been meaning to ask, who's the boss I've been hearing so much about? I hear he's a real tough bastard"

Temple turned to him. His black armour was adorned with green stripes, with noticeable plasma burns on the chest. "You haven't heard?" he replied. Mitchell shook his head.

"Well, he's-"

The room had fallen silent. Every helljumper had turned to face the elevator. Mitchell moved forward to get a look. The man was just over six feet tall, his armour scarred and dented, with freshly painted red stripes on the shoulders. He cradled his helmet under the crook of his right arm. The left was a robotic prosthetic.

"McNair..." he breathed. This was the man who had made their lives hell during the Helljumper training on Reach. McNair's cold green eyes settled on the young trooper. Mitchell froze as the ship shuddered again. Captain McNair began to walk towards him.

"Well well well..." he said, the scotsman's voice echoing across the silent deck. "Looks like we meet again, Private Mitchell" Nobody said a word. A few troopers exchanged glances and smirked. "Stand to attention!" he barked. Every ODST did so, their arms snapping to their sides immediately.

"So, seems my latest batch of rookies have come crawling back. Good for you then" He looked over at Roberts, who had desperately been trying to remain inconspicuous. "Roberts, ya moron. Haven't you been killed yet? Shame about that" He turned to face the rest of the unit.

"Allright boys and girls, as you may have noticed by all the bumps and panicky flyboys, we are under attack. I want every single one of you ready for a hard drop in ten. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Sir yes sir!"

Shipmaster Ren 'Telamee sat in the command chair of his destroyer, Justicar. Soon, the ship would rejoin the rest of the fleet in attacking another human world. They called this one 'Draco III'. Not that it mattered. They were merely vermin to be crushed under the might of the Covenant.

The door to the bridge opened, revealing a tall Sangheili warrior, armour the colour of human blood. He stepped onto the bridge, striding confidently forward as the shipmaster's chair turned to face him.

"Major" said Telamee, his voice low. Since the warrior and his team had been transferred aboard his ship not long ago, he had hated Felo 'Ranakee. He knew of his family back on Sangehelios, and the considerable power the current Kaidon wielded.

"Shipmaster" replied Ranak. "My team is ready to recover relics from the human colony before you assist the others in carrying out their holy duty". Telamee noticed the emphasis on 'assist', as if his duty was somehow lesser than that of Ranak's team, who reported to the prophets themselves.

"We will be arriving any moment, Major. If you can stay your blade, then everything will go according to plan"

''Yes. A Plan''. Major Ranakee bowed his head and left the bridge. One of the officers notified the Shipmaster that they would be arriving within the human system at any moment. Telamee had something in store for the young warrior, something that would prove him to be a heretic and a traitor to the holy prophets. He activated the intercom and spoke to his crew.

"Brothers, prepare yourselves. Today marks another victory for the Covenant, and one step closer to the Great Journey!

-Brodie-001

3
Kryss-216 put her Mark IV helmet on, tying back her long black hair to keep it inside the helmet. She equipped her M90 Shotgun and MA2B Assault Rifle, picking up two Frag Grenades and placing them on her left thigh, an M6D pistol on the other. She looked back at her squad. Fifteen Marines, each equipped with a pistol, an assault rifle and a frag grenade. Two ODSTs-codenamed Bothwell and Belfast, after the locations in the United Kingdom, were armed with DMRs. They were recently put through Helljumper training alongside other Helljumpers aboard the ship. Kryss was only finished with her Spartan training a year before the battle and was aboard the ship for experience purposes only. As the alarm sounded, she ordered her squad (purposefully ironically named "Tango Six Operations") to baord their vehicles. She got into a Pelican alongside three other marines and the ODSTs, rolling her motorcycle into it and chaining it alongside the seats. A marine took the pilot seat and nine of the other marines each sat in a hornet, the rest boarding another pelican, loading a mongoose into it.

Kryss Orlynn tapped her MA2B Assault Rifle on her shoulder in a 4-beat rhythm, the pelican flying over the planet surface. She turned her head back and looked at her two Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. "What's the ETA?" She questioned, her voice being carried away with the wind. She repeated herself in a louder voice.

"ETA is three minutes to LZ." one replied. She nodded and turned back to the other side. They passed overhead one of the first few Unggoy drops to the planet and she took a potshot with a frag grenade, blowing up all but two of the grunts. She shot the other two as the Pelican flew away. The marines rambled among themselves. All of a sudden, a single phantom began to shoot at their transport. The UNSC pilot successfully swerved past these, and Kryss jumped onto the turret of the rocket warthog equipped on the back of the Pelican. She shot directly at the Phantom's cannon, unhinging it as it fell from the sky, plummeting into a. She jumped back into the bay of the Pelican.

The Pelican began to fly downwards, Unggoy and Kig-Yar shooting at it. The marines stood and Kryss returned fire at the Covenant. "We're at the LZ already?"

The ODST who informed her of the ETA simply nodded and equipped his DMR, blasting an Unggoy's methane tank, forcing it to combust with pressure and killing the grunt and a nearby Kig-Yar.

Irockz707 20:22, May 8, 2012 (UTC)