User:Spartan 501/Installation 04: What If/Chapter Five: Assault on the Control Room

September 20, 0557 Hours, 2552

Threshold System, Beneath Surface of “Halo” Construct

On the edge of a circular abyss, a single grunt patrolled a platform that extended outward. His fellows were busy sleeping nearby, and he had the task of making sure the metal structure remained secure. As he patrolled along the edge of the shiny silver metal, something strange hit his ears. He stopped sniffing the air…then cried out in fear as a Pelican dropship rose to eye level with him, then higher. He ran for his fellows and woke them, before turning tail and retreating through the doorway.

In the troop bay of this Pelican, the Master Chief readied his weaponry, a BR55-M45 and a M7S SMG. He was worried and anxious—ever since the dropship had dropped below the surface of the ring, their transmissions had been cut off, keeping him out of contact with the rest of his team. He wished with his entire being to be up on the surface with his SPARTANs, helping them fight off the Covenant who had secured the beachhead. However, he knew his duty—he had to press on without them and secure the control center.

“This is as far as I can go without going out of my way ten kilometers.” Foehammer told him, swinging her dropship around.

The pelican rotated so that it’s troop bay faced the platform, and the chief caught a view of the area he was being dropped into. It was wide and long, but small compared to the abyss it was perched on. The covenant had deployed four stationary shields and two needler turrets—but none of these were being put to good use. His only opponents were a group of grunts that were fleeing towards a doorway in the middle of the platform.

“Roger that.” Cortana replied to Echo-419 “We’ll be able to find our way to the control center from here.”

The last of the grunts disappeared in the doorway, and the Pelican lowered to two meters of the deck.

“Good luck.” Said Echo-419 “Foehammer out.”

The chief jumped from his seat of the pelican, raising his battle rifle to his shoulder. While the grunts were gone for now, the Chief knew they would soon be back—most likely with elite reinforcements. As soon as the chief landed on the alien metal, he dove behind the cover of a stationary plasma shield—on the flat metal surface, there was no other cover.

The Chief had barely had time to get behind it fully and swing his rifle around to cover the door when the door ahead of him slid open, and an elite sprinted out. It roared and unleashed a hellish torrent of fire at the chief, making the shield glow red and hiss. Behind it, a group of three grunts came through the doorway, squeaking and squealing in excitement and fear.

The chief could hardly see through his bright red cover, but he didn’t have too. He peeked his weapon around the corner of his shield, and linked to the smart scope on his battle rifle. The image of the scope exploded onto his HUD, and he took careful aim and open fired. The elite’s shields went down with a rain of bullets, and when it did, the grunts ceased their suppression fire and ran.

The chief came up from a crouch and drew his M7S. The little weapon fired with dozens of muffled cracks, and before any of the grunts could get away and through the door, they were all down.

On the platform, it was suddenly quiet. The chief drew in a long breath, and stepped through the doorway. He jogged down a strange ornate hallway—diagonally shaped walls, an easily fifteen or twenty feet high ceiling, ornate markings on the floor, and glass areas of some of the lower diagonal sections, and behind these, sparkling blue lights of power generators. After rounding a corner, the Chief was directed forward by not only the linearity of the hallway, but also an arrow on the floor, pointing forward.

The chief rounded another corner, then another, and found a doorway. However he hesitated to go through it—a red blip, elite sized, was on the other side, patrolling back and forth. The chief debated what to do for a moment, then finally made up his mind. The chief watched until the red dot on his motion tracker had stopped in what he hoped was away from him—then he sprinted out of the door and behind the elite.

The chief barely made it, but he managed to crack the elite’s neck before it turned. It toppled forward and fell, and the Chief swore under his breath as his motion tracker picked up dozens of contacts in the central area of the room he was in. He dodged to the inner wall, and pressed up against it, out of sight. He glanced about, taking in his options. He could plunge through the center, and attack the enemies inside in a full frontal assault, but that would destroy his stealth advantage and be extremely dangerous. He could move around the center, sticking close to the center, staying low at the windows. To do this, he saw that he could go to the right of the doorway, but knew this would require running in front of the entrance to the center, something he wasn’t keen on doing. He could also however, move to the left of the doorway, and move around the side unmolested.

The chief slowly emerged from his cover and headed to the left side, brushing up next to the wall and getting as close to it as possible. He crawled low under a window panel—then stopped, frozen.

On an elevated platform, a single grunt stood, sniffing the air cautiously, it’s back turned to the chief. The Chief slowly drew his M7S SMG, and pointed it as soundlessly as he could at the grunt’s back. Then, he fired, and suppressed gunfire rang out.

Or not. The grunt toppled over, dead, with a dozen holes in it’s back bleeding florescent blue blood, but the silenced nature of the SMG made the Covenant troops fail to notice it through the thick metal. So far, so good.

The chief moved forward cautiously, rounded a bend, and spotted a single jackal, directly in front of him. But before he could move in and take it down, snap it’s avian neck like he planned to, it moved forward, and Chief spotted another Jackal behind it. The Chief saw it’s gaze drifting towards him, and rolled behind a nearby metal piece that stood out from his left, in a desperate attempt to get out of the way.

This attempt however, was not quick enough. The Jackal squawked in alarm and fired a burst of it’s plasma rifle, and the walls glowed green as the trio of energy bolts flashed past, illuminating the area.

The other jackal spun and rounded the corner, angling for a shot, but the Chief rolled from his crouch and snapped his boot against the alien’s shield, full force. The force of the blow sent the Jackal flying into the wall behind it—stunning it, and making it’s shield droop. The chief opened up with his SMG and cut the alien down, then moved left. The element of surprise was gone now, and his only hope was to move quickly.

The chief ran around the metal piece and sprinted at the Jackal who had spotted him. Behind the creature, he saw another of the high doorways—and knew it had to be his exit. He ran at the jackal and fired into the slot of it’s shield. It’s hand disintegrated into a fragmented mash of blood, skin, and bone, and the alien screamed and rolled onto the ground. In one swift movement, the chief brought his boot up and slammed it down onto the Jackal’s head, pulping it against the deck plates with a dull thwap.

From around a bend to the right, two more Jackals sprinted. They overlapped shields, and the leader, a major wielding an orange shield and a plasma rifle, squawked a command. Plasma hissed past the Chief—near misses that would definitely hit next time.

The chief side armed a plasma grenade at the Jackals, with enough force that when it hit the lead’s shield, the leader stumbled back, breaking the shield wall. The Chief turned away from the two and ran for the doorway as the grenade detonated behind him, a harsh blue-white light that casted shadow over the hard surfaces in the room.

The Chief made it to the doorway, and saw on his motion tracker that contacts were closing fast behind him, angling for a firing angle. He knew he might be able to get away—get through the door, and get out of dodge. But as the tall doorway slid open, his hopes turned sour.

From the door, half a dozen grunts waddled out, yelling frantically. They weren’t well armed—plasma pistols only, and one carried not even that, instead hefting an explosive cutlass.

The chief back-peddled and hosed the creatures with his M7S, tearing through their orange and red armor and puncturing holes in their complex and vulnerable methane systems. The chief put a quartet of rounds in one’s face, hosed two in the chest and left a dozen whistling holes that leaked blue blood, then hit another in it’s tank, which detonated as the explosive methane gas ignited. Fire streaked from the grunt, consuming it, leaving gnarled and scorched flesh behind, and taking down the other three grunts around it.

The chief saw the contacts begin to round the corner to his area, and sprinted forward, into the door. As he entered, it hissed shut behind him, and he saw it’s status lights wink from green to red as Cortana locked it behind him.

The chief found himself in another of the high walled hallways, and maneuvered through it. He turned right, then ran down it a good twenty-five meters, before taking a left, and stepping through another doorway. But as this door hissed open, it was not another room as he expected for the underground area, but instead, he found himself high above the ground in a canyon like area, with the ceiling not visible, on a long metal bridge.

Snow fell gently to the ground, sticking lightly to the cold metal, and the Chief could see steam rising from Covenant troops further along the bridge. The bridge, he saw, was made up of two levels, the upper level, which the Chief was on, and a lower level, which ran below it. Four beams of energy, two to each side of the bridge, appeared to tether and support the structure—to the Chief’s interest, the snow melted to and evaporated as it hit the beam.

On either side of the Chief, an unmanned needler turret sat motionless. A sleeping grunt dozed next to the turret on the Chief’s right, and he moved towards it, and snapped it’s neck. The chief spotted three more arrayed in a triangle ahead, and he fired his suppressed SMG, cutting them down.

“Strange…” said Cortana “The weather here seems natural, not artificial. I wonder if the ring’s environment system is malfunctioning…or if the designers wanted the installation to have inclement weather.”

The chief wondered as well, but didn’t voice any concerns. His thoughts were closer to the situation at hand—not at vague, generally meaningless discussions on the weather. He made sure the area was clear, that no grunts remained to awaken and ambush him, and then glanced down the bridge. Numerous pieces of metal jutted from the bridge itself, hampering his line of sight, but he spotted two jackals with blue shields patrolling, and heading towards him. Trouble.

The chief unlimbered his BR55-M45 and sighted in on the lead Jackal’s head, but stopped before firing.

From the far left end of the canyon, a heavily armed Pelican, similar to Foehammer, swooped in over the bridge. As it passed, it let loose a barrage of badly aimed chaingun fire, sending one of the Jackals running for cover, as the other crouched behind it’s shield and took potshots at the Pelican with it’s plasma pistol.

As the dropship roared over the bridge, it’s pilot broadcasted on an open channel, and the Chief’s comm crackled with the pilots cool voice.

“This is Pelican Echo-206, Fireteam Zulu, requesting immediate assistance from any UNSC forces, does anyone copy?”

The dropship swung around to face the bridge, and as it did, the Chief spotted the troops within it’s troop bay—green armored SPARTANs, the remnants of the team from the beach, along with several marines. On the back of the Pelican, a hog dangled from magnetic cables, and the dropship began to lower straight down, towards the ground.

Cortana was anxious to link up with the others. “I didn’t think they would make it.” She told the chief, then she switched to a channel directed at Zulu.

“Cortana to Fireteam Zulu, I read you.” Said Cortana “Fireteam Zulu, hold position, we’re on our way.”

Relief flooded through the pilot’s voice.

“Roger that, make it quick.” He said

The dropship continued to lower, until it reach the canyon floor. Through his scope, the Chief watched his SPARTANs unload from the back of the craft, onto the ground, where they could fight. First came a five man Fireteam, which moved in and secured a perimeter. They took cover in a patch of trees, with good lines of fire, and set up shop as Echo-209 dropped it’s hog and released the rest of the team, then lifted into the air. The dropship accelerated forward, out of the canyon, around a bend—before vanishing.

The chief turned his gaze to the bridge—he had to cross it, and then find a way down to the canyon floor. He moved forward, towards a metal beam that was placed in the middle of the bridge, creating two pathways on either side of the bridge. As he approached, a Jackal spotted him, squawked in alarm, and activated it’s orange energy shield, bringing it’s plasma rifle to bear. It fired a burst that hammered into the Chief, but the SPARTAN kept moving forward, took another burst that blew his shields away, and knocked the alien down with a swipe of his rifle. He tracked the creature’s head as it recoiled, and fired his Battle Rifle at it—making it erupt into a fountain of purple gore.

The chief moved right and ran down a ramp to the lower area. He fired his battle rifle at a Jackal that wasn’t ready, putting half a dozen rounds in it’s chest, making it fall to the ground in a heap. An elite fired from cover nearby, and Chief let loose a M10 grenade, which enveloped the elite in fire. It rose however, bleeding from it’s ears and half a dozen shrapnel wounds, and received a burst of battle rifle for it’s troubles.

The chief ran down the length of the bottom passageway, and found a half dozen grunts who were sleeping around corners on it. How they hadn’t awoken during the firefight, he didn’t know, but he killed them as they slept without remorse, carefully checking each corner to make sure no would jump out at him.

He made his way to the end of the hall, and found that he had to move to the upper level to progress. He crawled up the ramp, and saw two Jackals moving towards his area, shields lowered, easy targets. Chief grabbed his M7S and fired it, cutting through the two avian like aliens with dozens of rounds. The bird like creatures dropped with a squawk, unable to get their shields in place in time to prevent the attacks.

The chief eased up onto the platform, and found two manned needler turrets next to the door he needed to get through. Chief drilled one with battle rifle rounds, then hit another with a grenade—then saw something horrid running towards him.

A black armored elite carrying a sword of blue light sprinted towards him, roaring. Chief fired off his M7Ss full clip—it kept going. The chief let loose an M10 grenade from his battle rifle, making the aliens shields shimmer but not die. It raised it’s blade high above it’s head, ten meters from the Chief. The chief fired his entire battle rifle clip into the alien—and saw it’s shields finally flicker and die.

The alien was within striking range. It swung—Chief fired—and the elite fell forward, blade grazing the Chief’s thigh, burning through his M7S and blackening his armor plating.

The Chief stood over the corpse, breathing heavily, as the energy blade flickered, died, and consumed itself in a flash of plasma as the failsafe mechanism activated. The chief made his way to the doorway, and paused at it, letting it slide open. It was clear of hostiles.

The chief moved through the open doorway, and ran down another long hallway. He turned left through another door, and entered another large circular room. The path to the Chief’s right was blocked, and the area to the left was filled with grunts. A break in the wall was in the center, but the Chief guessed this led to the inner part of the room, which was something to avoid, as flanking maneuvers abounded there.

The chief decided he had to tackle the grunts on his left. He drew his BR55-M45 and linked to the scope, setting his crosshairs on the lead grunt. The chief fired, and blue blood splattered onto the wall. Another grunt swung around to face the Chief, but he put a burst in it’s small head.

The chief ducked into the opening into the circular room, and spotted a pair of grunts on an elevated walkway to his left. He fired and brought both of them down quickly, then glanced at his motion tracker. It painted a target heading straight for him—a target contact that wavered and shifted.

The chief let loose a battle rifle burst and got lucky. The burst hit the cloaked elite in the chest, knocking out it’s vital camouflage equipment. The chief finished it off, walking bursts up it’s chest and into it’s forehead. The elite fell to the ground with a tattered mess for a brain and a chest that bled freely, smacking into the ground.

In the room, another pair of grunts assaulted the Chief. He gunned them down with battle rifle rounds, then spotted a contact on his tracker. The chief activated the auto-zoom on his battle rifle, and spotted a single grunt, cowering in a corner, mostly obscured by machinery. The chief open fired and dealt a lethal headshot, then broke from cover and headed around the left flank.

The chief found a pair of marine bodies sprawled on the ground. Blood seeped from their corpses, painting the deck plates red, and ammo and weaponry from them lay on the ground beside them.

Searching through the carnage, the Chief located a MA5B/S-II Assault Rifle. He traded this for his SMG, and gathered ammo for it from the bodies. The chief suddenly heard a high pitched squeal, and spun to the glass window in time to see a Grunt retreat from the central chamber into the outer area via a walkway high above him.

The chief moved forward, following the walls, until he got a clear shot on the grunt. It was nervously looking about, swinging it’s plasma pistol back and forth.

The chief aimed his MA5B/S-II and watched the reticule shrink as the firing computer established a close range distance. He open fired, a ten round, fully automatic burst, and the grunt fell over backwards off the platform, screaming until it hit the ground. The chief paused, and reloaded his rifle. He continued on, around the chamber, and then moved down a short ramp into a small room, dominated in the center by a ramp leading to nothing. The chief stepped around this ramp and through a small doorway, ran up a ramp, took a left, and stepped onto a circular lift platform.

The chief slid his palm across the lift control, activating it. Much to his pleasure, the lift fell downwards, towards, hopefully, the bottom of the canyon where his SPARTANs waited.

The chief waited for the lift to reach the bottom, then dismounted it. He pressed through a doorway, around a bend, and found himself in a square shaped chamber, which was attached to another circular room. Sleeping grunts dozed with small snores throughout the area, and the Chief moved about, quickly, quietly, and efficiently assassinating them.

The chief left the bodies of the grunts behind, and proceeded on, into the circular room. He first moved right, but found it was blocked (though he did find another dozing grunt). The chief moved left, but caught a blip on his motion tracker—moving straight towards him.

The chief sprinted onto an elevated side section on his left, and watched on his tracker as the blip got closer and closer—then as it disappeared, stopped. The chief waited silently, holding his breath—then exhaled as the contact reappeared, moving away from his position.

The chief hopped down from his perch and ran behind the contact. It was an elite, walking slowly, with the arrogant stance that was trademark of the species. The chief lifted his MA5B/S-II high above his head and brought it crashing into the creatures neck, breaking it. The elite toppled forward, and lay on the ground, still and silent.

The chief glanced about, confirming no one had spotted him. He moved forward, and saw to sleeping grunts—along with several hostile live contacts in the main room. The chief quickly killed both of the dozing grunts, then cursed as a contact moved towards him. He flattened himself against a wall as the contact—a dull witted grunt—moved into his area. It sniffed for a bit, but didn’t seem to notice the pair of bodies—and then moved away, back into the chamber.

The chief rolled behind a crate, with a straight line of sight into the central room, aside from the crate. He spotted several hostiles in the room—and knew stealth was no longer a viable option. It was time to cause some chaos.

The chief grabbed a M9 HE-DP frag grenade from his belt and racked his MA5B/S-II. He braced for a moment, then threw the grenade forward and high.

The small pineapple shaped device bounced off the ceiling and fell to the floor. It landed and skittered, and the Chief heard a grunt cry “What the!” while another yelled “Grenade!”

The frag exploded with a roar, and the Covenant troops inside screamed. Chief swung out from cover, and saw that while the grenade hadn’t killed any enemies, it had shocked and frightened them. A number of grunts and Jackals were still inside, and the Chief aimed his assault rifle carefully and fired. His MA5B/S-II thundered and alien bodies fell under a hail of rounds, tearing away flesh and splattering blood over the engraved metal.

After expending a clip and a half of ammunition, the chamber was still and silent, and no one moved other than the Chief. The chief left the room behind, and made his way back into the outer corridor. He ran to another high walled doorway, and entered it. The chief ran down a hallway, and made it to another door. He stepped towards it, it cycled open, and he walked through.

The sounds of battle immediately filled his ears. The roar of T850 Chainguns filled the air, and the crack of needler turrets punctuated the combat. Plasma whined and hissed, and silenced M7S SMGs sputtered quietly. In the distance, a wraith tank hovered, but didn’t fire, lest it hit any of it’s own troops. To the chief’s left, a single needler turret sat, firing at his SPARTANs. The SPARTAN team had taken cover in a patch of trees and boulders, and the Chief spotted a flipped M12 LRV near them. Another needler turret sat high on a ridge, with a grunt manning it and another as backup. Beneath it, a pair of ghosts, idled, unmanned.

The chief open fired with his MA5B/S-II at the turret nearest to him, and grunt gunner slumped over in it’s chair. The chief sprinted for the SPARTAN encampment, and unlimbered his BR55-M45. He glanced through the scope, stopped, crouched, aimed, and fired. He kept shooting until the rounds pierced the weaker middle section, then switched targets and eliminated the other grunt before the alien could crew the turret.

The chief kept running towards the tree line, but spotted an elite running for one of the ghosts. The blue armored, eight foot tall, four mandibled alien was only a few meters away from the hovercraft—and aboard it, he would be a significant threat. The chief aimed his battle rifle, but before he could fire, the alien roared—it’s shields flashed a brilliant blue white, and then failed, as dozens of rounds from a T850 hit it’s back and killed it instantly, soaking the snow with purple blood.

The chief kept moving towards the SPARTANs, and downed three grunts on his way. He moved past a large evergreen tree, and spotted his SPARTANs. Four of them stood behind cover, hefting chainguns, covering a pair of M7S toting marines. Chief’s HUD highlighted each SPARTAN—Grace-093, Edward-077, James-074, and Kelly-087.

“Master Chief, good to see you!” yelled Ed, as the Chief came into view

“Chief, some of the others got a distress call from some marines, and headed down the canyon.” Added Kelly, and the chief found himself a cover behind a boulder.

The SPARTANs were all safely behind cover, but the marines were not. The Wraith tank, seeing it’s firing line clear, opened up—and plasma blasts hit the ground, too far away to damage, but close enough to get the marines to take cover.

Chief knew the inaccuracy wouldn’t last long—after a couple of ranging shots, the tank would hit much more accurately. They had to take it out—quickly. The chief glanced backwards, at the M12 LRV—their best shot.

“Ed, Kelly, hog now!” yelled the Chief

The tank belched plasma, and the SPARTANs ran for the Warthog. The three of them surrounded it, and lifted the flipped hog into the air—then threw it upwards and spun it, right side up, onto the ground. But even as they did this, a mortar slammed close to James and the marine pair.

James’ shields sparked gold and he rolled away from the blast, living, but the marines were not so lucky. Heat enveloped them, and the duo roasted alive—without the MJOLNIR to protect them, they instantly died in flame.

The SPARTANs clambered into the hog. Kelly slid into the gunner’s seat, and Ed climbed into the sideseat, bringing his T850 to bear. The chief floored the gas pedal, as the Wraith fired again—as the Warthog roared away, a blast of heat slammed into the ground where they had been moments ago.

The chief drove to the right, then turned left, and barreled straight towards the Wraith. The tank rotated to face them, and open fired with it’s plasma cannons, small energy cannons located on the chassis. Beams of blue heat flashed past them, and the chief turned right, away from the fire, and gave Kelly and Ed a clear shot on the tank.

Dozens of rounds slammed into the tank, but did little damage, hitting the heavy and nearly invulnerable front armor.

“Target the hatch!” yelled the Chief

Kelly and Ed adjusted their aim. They fired a continuously at the crew hatch as the hog closed. The tank fired a blast from it’s mortar turret—the Chief swerved and narrowly dodged.

Sparks skittered along the surface of the hatch. Pieces of metal flaked off, and the whole piece began to crack—then the whole piece shattered. The elite gunner roared as dozens of 12.7mm rounds punctuated the armor, then the driver itself. Blue blood vented from the hatch—and the elite gunner slumped onto it’s controls, and the tank nose dived into the snow, as flames began to flicker along it’s hull.

The Chief maneuvered the hog to the right of a large ramp of snow. The dual chainguns onboard made mincemeat of the Covenant troops—a pair of Jackals and a few grunts. The chief maneuvered aggressively, dodging plasma bolts and smashing Covenant troops with the hog. Finally, the resistance had been destroyed, and the Chief maneuvered the hog away back towards the trees and Grace and James.

As the hog slid to a stop, the Chief examined the area around the site. Scorched craters were the remnants of the Wraith, but bodies were also scattered around—three marines, dead, bodies laying in the snow, steam rising from them. Each carried something the Chief was glad to see—a S108 Sniper Rifle, a M19 Rocket Launcher, and a M90 Shotgun.

The chief knew he couldn’t carry everything—and knew he would probably need to grab the shotgun—he needed something to defend himself in a pinch. So, the Chief dismounted briefly, and grabbed the M90 and M19—firepower, and close range ability. The Chief returned to the hog and climbed into the driver’s seat. He clicked his comm, activating it.

“James, Grace, advance on foot and meet us there. Me and the others will secure the next section of canyon.”

A pair of green acknowledgement lights lit his HUD, and the Chief steered the hog towards the other end of the canyon. The hog roared off a short edge, and landed on a patch of ice. The chief battled his controls as he tried to keep the hog moving straight, and lost a significant amount of speed and momentum.

But as he was fighting this, the Chief heard the signature muffled crack of a S108 Sniper Rifle. In addition, the sound of a T850 filled the air, and a M7S whimpered.

Around a corner, a single SPARTAN and two marines fought the Covenant. One was the black sergeant, who held a sniper rifle, and the SPARTAN was tagged on Chief’s HUD as Ajax-013. They were in fierce combat against a pair of jackals, an elite, and half a dozen grunts.

The chief maneuvered the hog and gave Kelly and Ed a clear shot. They open fired, tearing into the Covenant troops. Alien bodies gave way and bled freely under hails of bullets, before finally crumpling to the ground. It took only a few moments of fire for the Chief’s team to finish off the Covenant, and then, it was mostly silent. Even so, they were not without casualties. A marine took a plasma bolt to the face, and fell to the ground in as smoking heat, not moving.

After the battle was over, the Chief exited his hog to talk to Ajax.

“Sir!” yelled Ajax “Good to see you.”

The Chief nodded, and spoke.

“Got any armor here? I’ve got two more SPARTANs coming.”

Ajax looked relieved.

“Glad to know that they made it…and we do. A Scorpion sir.”

Ajax pointed to the other side of the canyon, and the Chief spotted a flaming and crashed Pelican dropship. Beneath it, a Scorpion Main Battle Tank was flipped over; it looked like the SPARTANs might be able to right it and use it.

But before they could do anything, the Covenant attacked. A pair of ghosts came first, followed by eight Jackals. By combining fire, the humans were able to beat back the assault, drive back the Covenant troops. After this, the Chief gathered his squad.

They moved to the tank, and flipped it. They dragged it away from the burning dropship, then conferred a plan.

“Sir, orders?” asked Ajax

“Ajax and James, take a hog. Everyone else, on me, we’ll ride on the tank.

Confirmation crackled over his comm, and his team mounted up. The sergeant, whom his HUD highlighted as Avery Johnson, took a place at the back of the tank. Ajax took the drivers seat of the hog, and James manned the gun turret.

The Chief gave the order, and the squadron of vehicles moved out. The chief guided the ponderous Scorpion through a cave, and as he rounded a corner, he spotted a pair of needler turrets on a snow ramp. They had a good field of fire on the Chief—which meant they had to die.

The chief swung his crosshairs over the first turret, and fired. The massive 90mm HE shell hit the turret and, with a titanic explosion, sent it flying. The other turret turned to face the Chief, and he swung his own weapon around to target it. Before the needler turret could fire, the Chief’s cannon roared, and the turret was punched completely through. A grunt was milling around on the mound of dirt, between the two needler turrets, and Kelly killed it with a burst of her T850.

Ajax’s hog accelerated around the side of the Chief, roared to the right, and disappeared behind the dirt mound. The roar of the M21 LAAG filled the air, then the hog reappeared on the left side of the mound, heading back to the Chief, leaving a trail of bodies behind, but a tank alive.

The chief hit his throttle and moved to the right flank, following Ajax’s tracks. He roared around the side, and as he did, he took fire from a needler turret to his right. He silenced it with a 90mm shell, as his SPARTANs riding on the treads fired their T850 Chainguns at the Wraith. They peppered it’s armor, distracting it while the Chief swung the main gun around to face it and let loose a shell. Explosions tore through the Wraith, and Chief roared through the middle of the Covenant troops, using the point defense machine gun to kill several, while his SPARTANs hit more of them. On a ridge up ahead, a Wraith tank lobbed a bomb at his Scorpion—the Chief retargeted and destroyed it with a swift gun shot to the mortar apparatus.

High above the ground, a banshee flier accelerated towards the Chief. Ajax was on it before it could fire a shot—had James hit it with the LAAG and put it down to the ground. The chief sent his tank down a slope, towards a Hunter pair, and drilled them both with the 90mm main gun. He moved downward, and found a massive doorway off to his right. The chief called Ajax down, then opened the gate.

It hissed open with a roar, and the Chief sent his tank through the door. It was forty meters high and easily fifty five wide, permitting his tank with room to spare for Ajax’s hog. They drove through the tunnel for a few hundred meters, then through another doorway into an expansive chamber. It was three of four hundred meters long, at least five hundred wide, and with a ceiling at least a hundred meters high. In the center, a two hundred meter wide crevice bisected the room, and two bridges crossed it. However, one had been blown away, and was destroyed. On each bridge, a needler turret sat, and the chamber was cluttered with machinery, obstructing lines of fire.

On the other side, a significant enemy force was placed, several elites, numerous light infantry, and a hunter pair. On the chief side, a pair of elites patrolled, and grunts crewed Needler turrets.

The Chief roared down a ramp into the chamber, fired his 90mm into one elite, and made mush of the other with the coaxial machinegun. He then turned his attention to his right, and blew away a Needler turret, and it’s surrounding spare grunt crewmen, before turning his sights to the other Needler turrets.

Ajax moved into the chamber, using the hog’s mobility to stage hit and run attacks. The chief backed him up with long range artillery fire. Ajax moved in and hit the enemy, then pinpointed targets for the Chief, who then hit them with 90mm shells. The chief’s complement of SPARTANs defended him from point blank, when Ajax wasn’t close enough. After a good deal of combat, the SPARTANs finally cleared the entire chamber. They crossed the bridge, onto the other side of the chamber, and keyed a gate and headed into another tunnel.

After only a few seconds of driving, the SPARTAN team found a covenant group camped in the tunnel. The Chief blew away a cluster of ghosts and their elite drivers, while Ajax finished a group of grunts. To the left of the area, the tunnel turned more natural, sloping upwards into another canyon. Covenant troops, blue shielded Jackals, were placed sparingly on the slope, but the Chief eliminated them with tank fire from a distance. The tank rumbled as it accelerated uphill, and when they were near the mouth of the tunnel, the hum of a dropship filled the air.

The deep purple hued Type-88 Heavy Spirit flew in low and hovered in place in front of the cave. With a whine, it began to descend.

“Not so fast.” Muttered the Chief

The tank’s main gun roared and a shell slammed into the dropship. The explosion rocked the dropship back, and it sluggishly accelerated away, trying to escape, only for the Chief to blow it out of the sky. The dropship fell from the sky, belching blue flame, and the Chief smiled and sent his tank into the canyon.

The chief noted a huge rock face dominating the center of the canyon, separating it into two areas. The chief moved into the right area, and spotted a needler turret at the top of another snow mound. The chief sent this flying, just to be safe, then moved to the hill to secure it. But as he got there, a door in the rock face hissed open to his right, and a dozen Covenant troops ran out.

The chief swung his crosshairs over to the rushing hoard and fired twice. The Covenant formation was ripped to shreds, then the Chief watched James finish off the survivors on the back of Ajax’s hog.

Marine bodies were scattered to the right of the Chief, and he knew saw equipment and more importantly, ammo, scattered nearby them. The chief however, knew they first needed to clear the canyon. The chief and Ajax moved forward, onto an ice field, where an unused Wraith tank appeared easy prey. However, they were quickly proven wrong. As they entered, the found themselves swiftly surrounded. A ghost, along with a Type-55 Fast Attack Vehicle, called an Apparition, attacked. The Apparition was similar to the ghost but carried the weaponry of the Needler turrets—which is soon put to use. In addition, the tank went live, a Hunter pair emerged from a canyon exit ahead of them, and a banshee attacked.

“Ambush!” cried Ajax

Plasma bolts splattered over the armor of the Scorpion. The Chief yelled as the Apparition launched an attack—making blue explosion blossom over the Scorpion’s armor. As the blue detonations raged, Grace cried out in pain as a dozen needles hit her midsection—and tore her apart.

The Chief fired his main cannon at the Apparition and accelerated away from the tank. He hit it with a 90mm shell, then finished the ghost. However, he glanced over at Ajax’s hog, and saw him under attack—and to his frustration, his main cannon was still reloading.

Ajax’s hog tried to maneuver, but on the ice, it couldn’t. As James tried to fire the M21 LAAG, it ran dry on ammo—and the hog was a sitting duck. The banshee roared towards the hog, and it’s plasma cannons crackled, raking blue heat over the hog. Armor melted and burned away—then the entire hog was engulfed in flame as a fuel rod gun slammed into the hog and detonated the vehicle’s engine tank.

The flaming hog spun on the ice, flipped over, and lay still, with fires raging from it. But miraculously, Ajax crawled from the wreckage, shields glowing gold, armor blackened and scorched, but alive.

The banshee swooped down at the tank, and the chief open fired with the coaxial machine gun. As he did this, the SPARTANs on the tank treads also fired—hundreds of rounds went downrange, and brought the banshee to the ground. It’s flaming hulk slammed into the ground and skidded on the ice, gouging deep chunks of ice away.

The chief saw Ajax climb onto the tank, in the spot Grace had vacated. The chief was shocked at the sudden death of his two teammates—but he dealt with it. No time for emotions, he couldn’t risk another outburst.

The chief sent the tank rolling through a passageway into another section of canyon. He found himself on a high ridge, with a path leading down to the bottom up ahead, and another, equally high ridge, off to his right, sandwiching a lowered section. Grunts and Jackals were positioned to his right, and in front of him, but the Chief eliminated them with tank fire—explosions blossomed in their ranks and sent their bodies flying. On the other ridge, a pair of needler turrets sat, but Chief quickly wrecked them with 90mm shells—he couldn’t chance them attacking his team; the dual needler armament, Grace had proved, worked all two well. The chief rolled his tank forward, to the circular snow ramp leading to the bottom—when almost a half dozen allied contacts pinged on his motion tracker.

“I thought the Covenant had eliminated all the UNSC forces in this area.” Said Cortana

Around a bend, a team of five came running, pursued by hunter fuel rod streams. Three of their number were SPARTANs—Chief’s HUD highlighted them as Mike-028, Elise-070, and Linda-058. They were accompanied by two marines—and looked harried and worried.

Ajax spoke up.

“I sent them ahead, on recon…but I sent Will with them.” He said

The chief knew what had happened—and knew he had to move quickly to get them out. Because of the main guns positioning, and their presence high above the hunters, they wouldn’t be able to hit the creatures with the main gun. But Chief had an idea. The M19.

“Cover!” he cried, and keyed the hatch.

The chief leapt from the tank and sprinted to the edge. He grabbed the rocket launcher and set it up against his shoulder. Keying through the sight, he established a lock-on.

“Gotcha.” He muttered

The chief fired his rocket, the swung the launcher to face the other hunter. A shrill lock-on tone coursed through his HUD, and the last rocket fired. Fire enveloped the Hunter, and it roared in it’s death throes, before collapsing, missing it’s chest.

The chief ran back to the tank, and climbed in. He activated the controls and sent it down to the bottom of the hill—when the hum of a dropship filled the air.

“Shit…anybody else hear that?” Asked Ed “Oh man, Covenant dropship inbound, take cover!”

The chief saw a target marker appear on his HUD, courtesy of Cortana. It was rapidly approaching—and the Chief rotated the turret to face it. As it glided over a metal structure, the Chief fired, hitting it’s starboard troop bay. The dropship retaliated—a orb of purple energy slammed into the tank—and Ed was consumed in fire, instantly dying. As it flew overhead, it’s hull was filled with tracers—the four SPARTANs carrying chainguns fired continuously. It settled in on the top of the ridge the Chief had just came from—then exploded as a 90mm shell hit it’s cockpit, gutting it. The troops never made it out.

The chief made sure the area was clear, then climbed out of the tank. He strode up to Linda, as Ajax followed.

“Status on your team, report.” Said Ajax “Where’s Will.”

Linda looked at him coolly for a moment, expecting Chief to talk instead of Ajax, then spoke.

“We got separated sir. He started heading for the control room—and we took on an attack.”  She paused “He’s missing in action sir.”

The chief spoke.

“Very well.” He said “We’ll continue on, though it looks like we’ll have to ditch the tank.”

Indeed, their only exit from this section was a tunnel, which was fenced off by metal beams, with space only for infantry.

“Prepare to move out.” The Chief ordered.

The SPARTANs gathered and moved for the tunnel exit. All of them carried T850s save Linda—she hefted a SRS108 Sniper Rifle. The marines were armed only with M7S SMGs. The chief stopped at a pair of marine bodies near the entrance to the tunnel, and saw they carried M19 rocket ammo. The chief restocked, grabbing eight rockets, two of which went immediately in the tube, then moved the to the tunnel through imbetween the metal beams.

The chief ran through the tunnel, when a cloaked elite roared and emerged, running straight towards him. It carried an energy sword—which revealed it’s position. The chief switched to his shotgun, and racked the slide. He put a pair of rounds into the cloaked creature, and it roared and died.

The chief exited the tunnel, and saw contacts pop up on his right side. Grunts and Jackals emerged from behind a tree, and received grenades and T850 fire instantly. Behind them, on top of a ridge, a needler turret swung around to face them—Chief put a rocket into it and blew it to pieces.

The SPARTANs pressed forward, up a pair of ramps and onto the main canyon section. This section was the largest yet, with huge open spaces, a metal structure in the middle, a doorway to the right and several hundred meters away, and a bridge which loomed high above.

The chief sprinted onto the main section and led a devastating charge. The covenant fought back with dozens of grunts, needler turrets, banshee air support, a ghost, and another Apparition.

After putting a rocket into the first needler turret, which sat on a metal pad near a patch of boulders, the chief ran through waves of grunts, putting shotgun rounds into them, then spotted the manned apparition. He clicked on his scope and put a rocket into it, making it spin in the air. A banshee swooped in low towards the Chief, but his SPARTANs were already on it—chaingun fire ripped it from the sky. Two needler turrets guarded the doorway, and the Chief fired a single unguided rocket into each as they fired on his SPARTANs, with no time to waste letting the computer get a positive ID.

Explosions rocked these and the SPARTANs printed for the doorway. When they were twenty five meters distant, it opened, and two elites rushed out—into a swarm of gunfire. Rounds penetrated their shields by the dozens, making the elites into bloody Swiss cheese, before throwing them to the ground like rag dolls.

The SPARTANs killed off the stragglers, then conferred near the door. The chief was about to order them to move in through the doorway, when Ajax spoke up.

“Sir…” he whispered to the Chief “I think we better stay here.”

“What’s your angle?” asked the Chief

“The marines will slow us down, and we can’t very well leave them behind. They’ll be slaughtered.” Said Ajax

“What do you propose? We have to get to the control center.” Said the Chief, annoyed

“Sir, you should continue on ahead, and I’ll hold here with the others. We’ll have Cortana drop a beacon for a dropship—which will move in, and transport us to the control center, which you’ll have secured.” Ajax explained

Cortana spoke up

“I can do that.” She said “I’ve reestablished contact with Echo-206, and he can be here within fifteen minutes. Echo-419 is also closing, she’ll be at the control room in thirty.”

The chief nodded.

“Good idea Ajax.” He said “Stay here, and defend yourself until you can link up with transport.”

Ajax nodded, and began issuing orders to the squad. The chief however, needed a few things. He ran back to the cave, and gathered more ammunition. He ditched the rocket launcher in favor of a SRS108 Sniper Rifle, and took extra ammo for his shotgun, along with a pair of M9 frags to expend those used during the charge. He hiked back to the doorway, saw Ajax’s team dragging Needler turrets into a defensive position, arranging wreckage and bodies as cover, and entered the door, leaving them behind.

The master chief pasued in the long corridor, scooping up a plasma rifle from a downed elite. It had been many minutes since he had left behind his team, many minutes of constant fighting. He’d crossed high bridges, fought through small rooms, tackled dozens of enemies in long corridors like this one, and had assassinated grunts who were dozing on the job.

Glancing at his erratic biosigns, the chief shrugged off the pain that filled his awareness, and left the corridor behind. His shotgun had run dry, then had been replaced with an assault rifle, which had also been depleted of ammo. Now he was down to the sniper rifle and the plasma rifle he had just looted off the corpse of a cloaked elite, which could not be reloaded.

The chief entered another room with a ramp in the middle leading to nowhere, and climbed up a small ramp, into another circular room. They things were everywhere, repetitive, and it seemed like every area had them. But from his motion tracker, Chief knew he would surely remember this one.

Two large blips were the only things other than him in the room—but these were definitely something huge. Knowing the Covenant, they had to be Hunters. From his motion tracker, the Chief knew they were in the middle area—and knew he needed to get creative to tackle them.

The chief looked to his left. One of the platforms the grunts liked hiding on was nearby, and reachable—and gave him an idea.

The chief jumped into the air, and grabbed onto the platform. Flexing his armor, he pulled himself up, and then crouched through a low doorway, into the next room. The Hunters glanced about, but didn’t spot him. The chief waited until one was close, then took a flying leap.

The chief narrowly avoided the spikes protruding from the back of the Hunter as he landed on it and struggled to stay on it. It roared and shook itself like a dog, but the Chief drove his hands into the joint’s of it’s armor and stayed stubbornly attached. The other hunter growled, confused, unsure if to fire or not.

The chief drew a frag grenade and pushed it inside the vulnerable back section, until it was completely immersed in the Hunter. Then, before it knew what was happening, the Chief keyed the grenade and jumped from the Hunter’s back, rolling onto the floor, and away from the impending explosion. The other hunter ran to it’s bond brother, feeling something was wrong—then was thrown back as the grenade detonated.

The frag literally tore the hunter apart, tossing bits and pieces away. The remaining behemoth growled and looked ready to charge the Chief, but he was already behind it—jamming his plasma rifle into it.

Before the Hunter could react, the Chief fired, continuously, until the weapon overheated. The eels that made up the Hunter roasted and burned, as it roared and writhed. Squirming eels fell flaming from cracks in the armor, and others blackened to a crisp near the plasma rifle itself. As the weapon over heated, the Chief let go, and raised a boot. He kicked the plasma rifle in deeper, and the Hunter collapsed, in a pool of burned eels and orange blood.

The chief glanced about the room. Fresh marine corpses lay on the ground, whom Chief could only guess had been killed by the Hunters. The chief searched them for weapons, and found a BR55-M45 in the main room, which he picked up and loaded. In addition, he found SRS108 ammo, and better yet, a M19 Launcher in the outer hallway, near the exit, another door with high ceilings. But as the chief collected all the weaponry, he came under attack.

Four grunts and an equal number of Jackals ran through the door, and open fired. The chief was out in the open, away from cover, and under a barrage of plasma, his shields quickly dropped. The chief rolled away from fire, behind a small metal crate, but even as he did so, a half dozen plasma bolts hit his armor. Even through the MJOLNIR, he could feel his skin burn.

The chief ducked out from cover and fired his Battle Rifle. He aimed for the slots of the shields on the jackals, then hit them in the head when they recoiled. For grunts, things were much easier—without shields, their unprotected skulls were easy work for the 9.5mm bullets of the BR55-M45.

As the dust settled, the Chief returned to his weapon stocking.

“Resistance appears to be increasing.” Said Cortana “We must be getting close to the command center.”

The chief, with this in mind, decided to grab all he could carry. He strapped both the M19 and SRS108 across his back, with his BR55-M45 in his hands, and decided he couldn’t carry more. His mobility was already dangerously low.

The chief moved into the doorway, cautiously, then emerged into another canyon.

“This must be the control center.” Said Cortana

He was on a large natural looking snow bridge, above the canyon floor. A pyramid shaped structure was to his left, and a Wraith and a batch of ghosts were positioned to his right. In front of him, an unmanned banshee was parked—and its elite driver nearby. “Subtle.” Said Cortana, as he glanced at the pyramid. “The entrance to the control center is at the top of that spire. Bring me up there and I should be able to get us inside.”

The chief saw the red armored elite banshee pilot approach it’s craft. He wondered if he’d be able to hit it—and decided to try his luck. The chief unslung his SRS108 and open fired, tearing into the Elite’s head. The creature crumpled, then the Chief switched his aim to the elite nearest him—and fired. It took fell, and the chief stowed his sniper, grabbed the rockets, and fired the shots in the tube.

The covenant forces between him and the banshee were blown away—and the Chief made a mad dash for the craft. He ditched the BR55-M45, low on ammo, so he could fit inside the small cockpit, then climbed aboard.

He sat on his belly and keyed the craft’s take off systems. It sputtered off the ground, and the Chief heard the howl of another banshee—an aircraft that had risen from the other side of the bridge. The chief flew straight up, then dropped onto the tail of the opposing aircraft. He fired his plasma cannons—they opened up, faster than usual, and the banshee’s back plating melted. The chief hosed it’s wing pods with heat, and they detonated—a blast that consumed the craft.

Air threat neutralized, the Chief looped back to the bridge. Grunts ran from a doorway on the opposite side of where he had came out of, and numerous forces were placed there as defense. He neutralized them with dozens of plasma bolts and few rod gun shots, sending scorched bodies to the ground.

The chief dove, straight for the Wraith. From the vertical angle, it couldn’t defend itself from the plasma blasts as Chief walked blue energy from the mortar to the hatch. He finished it with a fuel rod gun as the elite driver tried to bail—losing half his torso when the green cloud found him.

The ghosts on the ground tried to fight back, but it wasn’t possible. The chief moved to quickly, and they couldn’t track him, even as he strafed and eliminated them with his plasma fire.

With the armor neutralized, the chief accelerated, straight towards the spire. On it were numerous Needler turrets, which he raked with fire, but most of which were unmanned. The chief set the banshee down in front of a massive gate, and spotted a control panel. Getting out his rocket launcher in case of a warm reception, he prepared to key the lock—when his comm crackled.

“Sir, this is SPARTAN-013, were inbound! Get into that facility chief, we’ll be there in almost ninety seconds.” Said Ajax

The chief clicked his won comm.

“Roger, land directly on the spire—it’ll be clear in a few moments.” He told them

The chief made sure his weapons were loaded, then moved to the panel. He activated it and made a mad dash away from the gate, towards cover—he didn’t want to be right next to it when it opened.

He had thought good. On the other side, a dozen covenant forces stood—including an energy sword bearing stealth ops elite.

The chief fired the rockets in his tube, laying waste to the enemy. The elite dodged a rocket meant for him, even as the explosive detonated in a pocket of grunts behind it, and charged. The master chief snapped his sniper up to his shoulder and fired twice, without the scope—dual rounds battered through it’s shields and into it’s headpiece.

The chief dove behind cover, and reloaded his launcher. When he had replaced the disposable tube, he popped out and fired. With the majority of the forces down, he advanced, and hit the stragglers with his sniper fire.

As he finished the clearing, Cortana’s voice sounded in his helmet.

“Chief, the dropship is ten seconds out.” She told him

The chief returned to the lip of the pyramid and watched Echo-206 land safely on the edge. His SPARTANs jumped out, but they were accompanied by two newcomers: Adrian-014 and Angel-054.

“Echo-419 dropped them off Chief.” Said Ajax, and the Chief nodded. He didn’t have the words to tell them how happy he was to see them.

The chief led this SPARTANs to the final gate, the one that led into the control center. They took up firing positions around it, and someone handed Chief a BR55-M45 and a M7S—which he promptly took. His sniper and his rockets were out.

Kelly keyed the hatch. It cycled open with a groan—and was clear. The chief broke from cover and walked forward, BR55-M45 in one hand at his side. His SPARTANs followed warily.

“This is it.” Said Cortana, as the Chief entered and glanced around. “Halo’s control center.”

The SPARTANs moved inwards. They were in a huge sphere shaped room. A glass walkway ran to the center, then parted into a circle. Overhead, a huge representation of Halo floated and spun, while in the very center, a miniature of the whole system, Threshold, Basis, and Halo, rotated.

The chief moved to the very center, and spotted a control panel.

“That terminal, try there.” Said Cortana

The chief approached it, and took the data chip containing Cortana from his neck. When she withdrew, his head seemed to warm, and he felt hollow, empty. The chief slotted the chip into the terminal—and drew back as the image of Cortana, huge jumped into appearance in front of him.

“You all right?” he asked catiously

“Never been better!” said Cortana happily “You can’t imagine the wealth of information—the knowledge, so much—so fast! Its glorious!”

The chief shook his head minutely, slightly annoyed. Time to get back on track.

“So, what kind of weapon is it?” he asked.

Cortana looked at him, exasperated.

“What are you talking about?” she said shortly

Ajax spoke up.

“Lets stay focused. Halo, how do we use it against the Covenant?” he asked

Cortana glanced at him, then back to the Chief. The look of exasperation turned to annoyance.

“This ring isn’t a cudgel you barbarians, its something else…something much more important. The Covenant were right, this ring…it’s forerunner. Give me a moment to access...” Cortana paused, and Kelly glanced nervously at the Chief

Cortana spoke again, snapping the SPARTAN’s attention back to her.

“Yes the Forerunner built this place, what they called a “fortress world” in order to…oh no, that can’t be.” Said Cortana, dread filling her tone.

Quite suddenly, she burst out in alarm. “Oh those Covenant fools! They must have known, there must have been signs!” she yelled

The chief raised his hands in an attempt to calm her.

“Slow down, your losing us.” He said as calmly as he could manage.

Cortana continued on, unabashed.

“The covenant found something, buried in this world, something horrible, and now…they’re afraid.” She said gravely

“Something buried? Where?” asked Adrian

“The Captain, we’ve got to stop the Captain!” stammered Cortana, alarmed

“Keyes? What do we—” started Chief

Cortana cut him off before he could finish.

“The weapons cache he’s looking for, its not really—we can’t let him get inside!” she yelled

“We don’t understand.” Said the Chief

“There’s no time!” Cortana told him “Get out of here, find Keyes stop him!” yelled Cortana

The chief turned to his squad. They moved. The SPARTANs ran for the dropship, but Chief stopped Adrian and Angel.

“Guard her, and find out what’s going on.” He told them

Adrian nodded.

“Can do Chief.” He said

The others were already aboard Echo-419, who had just touched down. They quickly explained the situation to the pilot, and as soon as the Chief was aboard, the dropship’s engines flared and the VTOL gents roared. They took off and headed straight up, towards an exit tunnel—and eventually, to the Captain.