RP:Gaining Faith/Content

1
Commodore Robert Garcia said, "Reconnect all power systems," and there was light. In a matter of moments, the warship was once again, fully operational, as well as those following its lead. The bridge's viewscreen and reinforced glass windows displayed the vast region of space that waited before them, and soon enough, two Covenant cruisers shifted forward into view, paying the Grapes of Wrath no attention. In the center of the screen, a white star star, apparently of a relatively small size. Almost new.

"Morgan," the Commodore had begun, turning and walking towards the rear end of the bridge. The executive officer exhaled and turned his head towards the fleet's commander, removing one hand from the operations panel to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

"Yessir?" he replied, unaware that he was slurring his words. Robert unfolded his arms and lightly pressed his right pointer finger unto the door key. "I'm leaving you with the bridge, I'm going to brief our battle forces. Especially our veterans from Hope, and the Spartans. And keep an eye on those Covenant vessels, I'm expecting them to break into an organized attack at any moment." The admiral stated, hurrying into the neighboring corridor. "Very well then," Morgan muttered, typing away at his post.

Riley-G311 and Ryder-K231 stood beside a surgical operations room, starring through the glass and below, entranced by the procedure. Jake-093, Juilet Varusisguard, Nikolai Torkamentov, and countless others laid motionless under an artificial sleep, as masked surgeons dug into their limbs, repairing broken and fractured bones.

"It's my fault..." Ryder claimed under his breath, his eyes intent on Juliet. "'S'not your fault, man." Riley assured him with a pat on the back. Ryder just shook his head, saying: "I wasn't fast enough. If I had a higher speed-to-strength ratio, I might have been able to save them all from this trouble. They're all busted-up because I couldn't shut that gate in time..." he muttered. "If anyone, blame all of us. You couldn't have shut it all without the rest of us... Your knee?"

Ryder shrugged. "It was repaired pretty quickly and easily. Not even broken, but displaced. Turns out that that bio-foam was all I really needed." Riley nodded in approval, and walked over to the neighboring operating room, leaving Ryder to gaze upon the others. Sceptical surgeons attempted to isolate any injuries that they could, with their limited knowledge of Sangheili anatomy, and their patient strapped to the medical bed by titanium cables, lest he attempt to rip free and crack one of their skulls. Riley and the others knew him better than that, but what could they say. Riley turned to his right, only to witness Commodore Garcia escorting yet another Spartan supersoldier to him. The Human clothed himself in nothing more than a mere towel, draped across his thighs. Blotches of blue frost matted his shoulders, suggesting that he was recently removed from a cryo-pod. As he neared, however, he recognized the face as all to familiar.

A somewhat-friendly rival to him, and an acquaintance to Ryder and Matt, although he wasn't sure just how the three stood with each other. Probably friends from training or something, as Riley vaguely remembered one of Matt's stories, involving them all being on some team together or something. Ryder gave Ender-K324 a brief pat on the back. Their conversation was indistinguishable from a distance, or maybe it was just that Riley didn't care enough to try listening. Garcia walked towards Riley, whom's eyes where inactively transfixed upon Turok.

The Commodore paused for a moment, before getting Riley's attention. "That was one hell of an effort back on Hope, Spartan. I'm promoting you right up to Petty Officer First Class, soldier." Riley didn't perk up until he heard about his promotion. "Thanks, sir. I appreciate it... really." Riley stated, blandly. "In a few hours, at most, I'm planning to deploy you, Ryder, Matt, and Ender into space. We have not the slightest clue where we are, but our locations almost seems too... coincidental. If that isn't enough scans indicate that we are somehow beings contained, and that their are material boundaries out somewhere."

Riley looked confused. "We are trapped?" he asked. Garcia shrugged, responding: "It's very likely. More analysis will become available soon, and we'll be sure to keep you updated. Even so, I've got a gift for you." Robert removed a slim chip from his pocket and placed it in Riley's open palm. In a second, he had it installed into his new MJOLNIR helmet's memory core.

"And those suits..." Garcia stated, motioning towards Riley's new MJOLNIR Mark V CQC variant armor. "Those things are expensive. Don't lose this one." Riley had to admit that he liked this one much more than his outdated CQB model. It featured a fully upgraded helmet, as well as a complete set of multi-threat armor pieces. A green sheet of titanium-microfibers draped down from the neckline, near the peak of the chestpiece. It was apparent that it had been custom made, as it featured Riley's signature forest camouflage colors as well as his Triad Team emblem.

As soon as Riley placed his helmet upon his head, a pale, dark-haired female wearing a thin white fabric appeared before him. Riley, forgetting for a split second, looked over the the Commodore, who had payed the hologram no attention. Riley soon remembered when installed into a MJOLNIR helmet, that the AI may appear solely to the wearer. Matt's AI worked rather differently. "You like it, do you not?" the Robert mused. "I had it programed just for you. She is fluent in just about any language, and is an encyclopedia of knowledge. She is also a virtual port for Data Net Terminals and the SRT UGPS. Not that that will come in handy out here, but... you'll find her quite useful, I think."

"Thank you. What is her name?" Riley asked calmly, carefully observing her image. "She calls herself the Oracle."

2
"Keep strapped in!" The Pelican's pilot screamed over the intercom as debris battered the tiny dropship. When Hope had collapsed, a lot of what had been the planet fell into the rift. Eirikur Quinn's dropship had been caught in the gravity well before it could reach the fleet. Now it was in the midst of this hurricane.

The ODST didn't know where they were, outside the windows there was only a haze of sand, with objects the size of boulders up to parts of continents, all falling towards something. He clung to the crash webbing for dear life as rubble pounded the hull, then screeched as larger chunk of rock sent the dented ship spinning in a random direction. Suddenly, a cloud of the dust got in as the hull was breached. The men around him screamed, choking on the dust, and sudden loss of pressurization. The air seeped out of the ship, leaving all but Quinn and the pilots in vac-sealed suits to suffocate. There was nothing the trooper could do as the man sitting directly next to him was asphyxiated.

The ship's copilot looked back, unreadable behind his silver-tinted helmet, observing the dead technicians and marines and still breathing Helljumper, and turned back to trying to control the ship.

Quinn didn't know what good it would do, they didn't know where they were and couldn't see it anyway. And with these violent turns, it was little use to try anyway. Heat began to come through the floor, which meant they were entering atmosphere. The debris field must be in the range of some planet.

Then Quinn heard a some sort of sputter, and the airblast sound of the engine exhausts disappeared. As he looked to the pilots, horrified, they began to drop faster.

They were gone for only moments, but in that time the G-force nearly caused him to black out. Then the engines roared to life and shot the Pelican forward, in whichever arbitrary direction forward was. Quinn felt the ship straighten out, and turn right side up. Outside, the air became clearer.

"I think we're out of the worst of it." the pilot said, sighing with relief.

He'd spoken too soon. Something struck the starboard wing. It burst into flame, barely operable. Quinn held onto his head, tired of being shaken, and looked out the back window. He caught sight of something sleek and purple in the cloud behind them. "Seraph!" he yelled.

"Gotta be kidding me." the pilot grumbled. "I'm opening the hatch, trooper, get the gun and take him down."

Reluctantly, Quinn unbuckled and stood, hanging onto the Pelican's frame. The hatch opened wide, and he quickly shifted his grip from the ship to the gun turret, and opened fire. It rattled off several hundred rounds per minute, but it wasn't enough to break through the Covenant fighter's shields. It answered him with more plasma cannons, slagging part of the ship's underbelly.

It got that much harder to shoot, the sand and black smoke from the ship reducing visibility. A bolt of plasma struck the underside of the tail, just above his head, washing him with heat. He fell back to the deck with a shout. Luck favored him, because as he watched, a falling piece of permacrete the size of a tank struck the Seraph. Its shields didn't break, but the sheer force sent it tumbling out of control.

"Hang on trooper, we might be landing pretty hard, we - gah!" Quinn turned, and saw the ground approaching too fast. The pilot threw up his hands as if to protect himself, and Quinn knew his only chance of survival had to be grabbed in moments which were bleeding away fast. Grabbing the turret, he pulled himself back, and jumped from the dropship, hoping he'd be lucky enough to live through the landing.

Even while Quinn's dropship was being battered around, another Pelican was in a completely different situation. Bravo 029 had pushed its limits returning to the Grapes of Wrath, and the strain on its body meant repairs needed to be carried out.

Staff Sergeant Moses Wheatley had scarcely seen a more beat-up bird. The repairs from when it had been damaged over Hades were temporary, and the wounds had reopened so to speak. Then, the tail section was close to being pulled off, and both wings were actually bent slightly backwards. How it had managed to escape beat the hell out of him, but the valiant bird had done it, somehow. He removed the heat shield from over his head, having just reconnected several 'sprained' hydraulic lines in the tail. "Try it again."

In the cockpit, LTJG Angel Yasunaka coaxed the damaged ship to life. After sputtering for a moment, all jets came to life as they were supposed to, just under the needed power to push it off the motor pool's deck.

"Whaddya know?" said Ensign Mikail Gossard, the copilot and radio operator. "I guess this proves there is life after death."

Wheatley eased himself off of his perch on the ship's tail and jumped down next to Goss. "A few more hours, then I'll say she's allowed to fly. But as soon as we get back to Earth, I want a complete overhaul of this thing. I really hope the Covies aren't looking for a big fight, 029 can only take so much more small arms fire before she breaks up completely."

"They won't hit anything." Angel said confidently, coming out of the troop bay. "But all the same, I guess we'll be moving troops and supplies, won't we?"

"Looks that way." Goss agreed. He looked over across the hangars to where the fighter techs were finishing fuel-ups and pre-flight checks. Maybe they were expecting a big fight from the Covies after all.

3
"Holy-" Ryder began to mutter as he watched the barely dressed man walk into the room. The man was around Ryder's height and only had a towel on his waist, with blue frost everywhere on him. Clearly, this guy just came out of cyro. Ryder quickly shook Garcia's hand, before heading further back towards his long-time friend Ender, a fellow Spartan.

"Long time, no see. It's been almost five years since I was put in cryo. Hope I didn't miss anything." Ender exclaimed, as Ryder pat him on the shoulder, brushing off small chunks of ice. "Heh," Ryder chuckled at this irony. "More like you missed Hope." Ender looked confused, as though Garcia had begun to explain to him the situation without finishing. "I have a lot to explain..." Ryder concluded, turning towards the wall as though to brief him under his breath.

"What's this?" Matt asked, silently entering the corridor alongside Morales. Ryder and Ender turned to welcome the two, as Matt toyed with a new firearm straight from the armory. "I'm Ender," the Spartan kindly explained. "I'm Ryder's old friend." Ender stared at Matt, noticing the major diference between the two of them. "Are you a Spartan-II?" he questioned Matt. Matt's face brightened, as he begun to join-in on the conversation.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Tron's avatar appeared before Matt, catching him off-guard, and intruding upon the conversation. Without a word, Tron walked over to Riley and Garcia. "May I?" the AI asked. Riley nodded, and the Oracle turned to Tron. Tron only stared back, and it had almost surprised him that Matt's AI was capable of visualizing and interacting with his.

The Oracle stood completely still, staring at Tron with large eyes. It gave Riley the impression that she was peering into her fellow AI's soul. Good thing that it wasn't so awkward talking to human women, he thought. He then remembered that it was capable of reading his mind, although she appeared to focus entirely on Tron. Tron turned an uneasy violet.

"I'm Matthew-123's personal AI program. I would like you to know that we are responsible to cooperate and collaborate with each other from this point on, and that I am willing to assist you however possible whenever necessary." Tron knew that he could have probably planned a better introductory speech, but this would do, he figured.

"Such is predictable, and I appreciate your willingness." the Oracle responded. These words stung Tron more than he had anticipated, and snapped him back into reality.

The dark atmosphere of a Phantom's hangar bay ensued for minutes to hours, and the constant pain of silence made each of its occupants feel shunned and unwanted by their superiors. This occurred often, and was almost normal to lower-class castes such as that of Rin-T-Yar.

One daring Kig-yar broke the silence, boastfully snarling, "I killed three humans with one shot."

Rin snorted and growled back, "I was captured by four demons and had managed to escape. Your pathetic kill is worthless compared to me. I am apparently blessed by the Gods." The boastful one fell back into line, respecting his team-leader, who had recently been promoted to the rank of Major. Rin chuckled as he waited in the Phantom. "Blessed by the Gods? I'm a cunning little beast now." he thought, and with that, his escort had found refuge in the nearest Corvette's hangar, where it would endure throughout its journey into the rift.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 21:11, June 22, 2011 (UTC)

4
086 Awakened Follower quietly waited in obit of a desert planet. He had been waiting for millennia, and what he had been waiting for was quite unclear to him. Humans, reclaimers, and when they would arrive, he would be amongst the first to know. Today was his day, however, as out of the blackness of space had appeared a soft ribbon of distorted space-time. The beam stretched kilometers across the distant sky, and burned in a variety of exotic colors. Colors far out of most species spectrum. Follower's central eye dilated, focusing in on the warped region of space. A silver gate had been activated. Millions of sentinels, mostly in ruins, poured in.

086 Awakened Follower looked on, amazed, watching as purple vessel after purple vessel exited the portal from a distance. "Oh dear me," he transmitted to his devoted followers, who swiftly levitated towards him. The AI each watched from a vast distance, as the starship dropped into distant orbit of the sphere's star. "They aren't human, but Covenant." one claimed. Awakened Follower acknowledged him, as AI of his sort have had many unpleasant skirmishes with their kind. We must eliminate the threat," a Sentinel alerted him. "Of course, of course. That is unless the reclaimers aren't far behind."

Surely enough, about half as many human vessels tore through the portal like a wave. "We shall provide the human's aid." one stated. Follower agreed. He wasn't actually a follower of any sort, but a leader. The authority of the Zenith Complex. --TehSpartan with assistance from Pikapi

5
Luc was one of the first to awaken from his anesthetic induced slumber, his head groggily turning. As he sat up and surveyed his surroundings, he was surprised to see that he was in a medical ward of some kind, with doctors, surgeons and other medical personnel still operating on some of the patients around him. He was about to rub his eyes, before he noticed one crucial thing was different about his left arm. It was strangely metallic, and oddly skeletal. When he flexed the prosthetic arm, he watched as the five digits, blunt when compared to actual human fingers, curled inwards, forming a fist much like a normal arm of flesh and bone would do. "What.." he muttered, trailing off. He never did finish that sentence, as the even flashed through his mind. Not even reinforced bone could stand the force of a blast door closing during violent decompression.

Commodore Garcia, who had been peering with the group down into the surgical bay, arched an eyebrow. "It seems Lucas is awake. Just in time to deploy with the you all as well." he noted, gesturing to the gurney the confused Spartan laid on.

TheivingFan 21:19, June 23, 2011 (UTC) Sorry it took a while.

6
Admiral Torkamentov looked around the bridge of the Pax Americana, as the power kicked in. That jump had been very risky, but it seemed to have worked off. He stood still for a second as he waited for his headache to subside, then said, "How are we?" Crewmen began working at their stations as damage reports came flooding in. It quickly became apparent that the jump had done quite a number on the ship. "Sir, it looks like we lost Engine 2. That's going to take at least a day to fix. We've also lost most of our sensors, so we are pretty much blind for now. They figure they can get us at least limited function in 6 hours. Over half our weapons emplacements sustained some level of damage, and a lot of that we're going to need specialized parts to fix. The techies figure they can get us back up to at least 60% capacity, depending on how long we have to rest. The hangars weren't majorly damaged, so we can still launch most of our Longswords and Pelicans."

Torkamentov grimaced as he received the reports. "Damn. If the Covenant came for us now, we'd be sitting ducks. Fortunately, they don't seem very interested in us." He thought for a second, and then issued his orders. "Alright, work on the damage as much as we can. Tell them to focus on that engine. I want full mobility back ASAP. Meanwhile, launch our Longswords, so we can have some coverage. And we might as well send some of them to check out the system, and scan any major planets here." He looked about at the crew that had endured so much, in so little a time. "Lets get to work," said Torkamentov as he sat down in the command chair.

Clyde Stirling strapped a knife onto his boot as he thought back to everything that had happened. The no holds barred fight for Port Neandra, and now he was here, on a starship in the middle of some sort of space rupture thingy. Really, he didn't know what the hell had happened, but apparently there was no way back. And now he was being deployed to some sort of planet they had found in here. He looked around at everyone else in the armory. They were getting ready for deployment into the unknown, and you could tell that on everyone's faces, and in their words.

Finally, it was time to go. Clyde linked up with is squad members, and they waled down to the hangar. Walking down the rows of Pelicans, they reached the one that they were to be deployed on. It looked pretty beaten up, and there were numerous plasma scorches on the sides. His squad leader said, "Alright, Denver Squad, load up. Remember, once we land, move fast. We don't know what's going to hit us once we've landed. So move to stay alive. Got it?" Everyone else roared their acknowledgement. Clyde silently filed into the back of the Pelican. After a bit of waiting, he could feel the Pelican move beneath his feet, and they roared out of the hangar, to who knows where.

--Azecreth 23:45, June 23, 2011 (UTC)

7
"Come on, Riley! We're back in battle! Let's show some battle spirit!" Matt exclaimed from his rear seat in the cockpit of Delta 09. "Yee Haw." Riley sighed, blandly mocked his enthusiasm. Riley quickly pressed a button and flipped a switch on the control panel, before turning his head to acknowledge Ryder and Ender, sharing Delta 12, the Sabre across from them. Bravo 09's engines began to roar, and blue flames erupted from it's rear engines. Ryder mimicked Riley's movements on his fighter's control board, and Bravo 12 followed directly behind as Riley's fighter left the hangar. Riley adjusted his helmet's radio transmitter. "This is Delta leader. All wings check in." In seconds, the communications channel was filled with chatter. Ryder, being the only one who dared to muse "Red Five, standing by."

As soon as the last Sabre had exited the Grapes' left hangar bay, the already deployed squadron of Longswords looped over the vessel and down to meet up with them. They coordinated over a separate channel, yet Riley knew that they were all going to strike the same Covenant corvette once he noticed Morales piloting the Longsword to his left, giving him a thumbs up. In the co-pilot seat, Riley watched Luc navigate. Turning to the opposite side, he could make out Bravo 029 looming in the distance.

Without time to waste, the entire squad swerved right to eliminate the nearest Corvette's engines. Riley liked the idea that in this one battle, they would be the one's initiating the first strike. Riley made the first move, looping under the corvette's aft rim, as Matt bombarded one sub-light engine with missiles. They didn't go unnoticed, however, as seraphs and banshees soon swarmed the corvette's rear. Riley watched in horror as a neighboring Pelican was ripped into shreds. Matt quickly scanned the area to confirm that it wasn't Bravo 029, which it wasn't.--  Chris  talk   blog  19:13, June 24, 2011 (UTC)

8
Quinn’s hand grasped a hold on the slick, black rocks lining the riverbank. It took the last of his energy to haul himself up out of the water and into the bed of ferns, where he lay catching his breath.

He’d been extraordinarily lucky. The fall would have certainly killed him if he hadn’t landed in the river. The force of the landing had still hurt. A roaring filled his ears, not too far up was a waterfall. He tore off his helmet, trading the humid heat inside his helmet for the humid heat of the jungle, and crawled to the water to drink. Only after that did he think about possible sicknesses, but the air was breathable and the water cool and clear.

Looking up into the sky, he saw the smoke trail from the wounded Pelican still in the air. Though reluctant to leave his shaded part of the bank, he needed to find that Pelican, and started picking his way through the brush, always keeping the trail overhead in sight.

The ship Quinn had been riding had come to a halt at the base of a cliff. A deep furrow of fresh earth had been cut into where the ground was otherwise covered by thick, green vegetation. The cockpit section had either been torn off before the landing, or crushed to inches in width, based on how the rest of the ship sat squarely at the base.

Quinn already knew he was the only survivor, the ship had landed too hard, and most were dead before that, anyway. Still, the supplies it carried would be useful.

As he stepped into the troop bay, he noticed that the rear gun had been torn from its mount, and was nowhere to be seen. The bodies of the eight or so technicians were still strapped in, and Quinn found none of them had been carrying weapons.

He bit his lip. His own rifle and pistol were gone, he wanted a weapon. The pilots would have had sidearms, but he wasn’t likely to get one. And the troop bay didn’t have anything else in it but scattered boxes of spare parts. That meant all he had was his knife. Useful, yes, but not as good security as a firearm.

Quickly, he found matters worse. The Pelican’s emergency beacon, housed in the front section, had also been smashed. That meant only his FOF tag could be picked up, if any UNSC craft or personnel were even near the same planet as he was.

He had a feeling he’d have to make his own luck, now. At the very least, the emergency rations cache was intact, and he stuffed what he could into a borrowed rucksack. If he got out of this valley and to higher ground, he had a better chance of being spotted.

As he started walking away from the wreck of the Pelican, a loud roar broke out over the forest, chilling the ODST to the bone. He’d heard that howl before, when his squad had finally escaped Reach. For days, they’d been fighting the enemy non-stop as civilians were evacuated, until even the renegade soldiers who’d refused to abandon the effort admitted defeat. By the time the troopers had given in, it was almost too late to escape the slaughter.

In the skyways over New Alexandria’s streets, the Brutes they’d been fighting had lost any semblance of control. With their enemies fleeing, they’d gone recklessly after them like starving animals. One or two would ambush the squad without weapons, breaking bones and beating marines to death, then drag a man still alive into the shadows we left behind, the survivors unable to shut out the screams as they ran on. When Bravo 029 finally picked his squad up, there were barely any left.

And now, the Jiralhanae pilot of that Seraph was alone here with him. Quinn’s knife would count for nothing, he’d seen veteran Helljumpers torn apart in the apes’ bare claws. And it was probably better at surviving in the jungle than he was.

The trooper hurried away from the crash site, hoping it wouldn’t find his trail and realize Quinn was alive out there, vulnerable prey just a perfect target for revenge.

From the observation deck of one of the Covenant cruisers, Cor 'Kedaree watched as human ships swarmed the distant corvette. He wondered at what the purpose of the corvette's position and the human attack was, but he was no Shipmaster. He'd never had a mind for strategy. Killing was more his talent.

"Am I to be deployed soon?" Cor asked, having heard the Fieldmaster approach.

"In time. There are many things to be understood before we can take action. If the humans land, you shall follow. If not, alert your warriors for boarding action. It will be soon enough."

Cor showed none of the expected but not required gestures of respect to his superior. He prided himself as having no superior when it came to butchering humans hand-to-hand, as fighting should be done. In time, then? He would be ready.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 21:13, June 24, 2011 (UTC)

9
"Let's give 'em a hand." Luc calmly stated, nodding over to the struggle taking place near the rear end of the Corvette. "Hold on, hold on. I'm on it." Morales replied, banking the large interceptor in the direction of the fight, their wingman following suit. "All weapon systems, reading green!" Luc shouted. "Accelerating to attack speeds." Morales replied, hand pushing the throttle bar, located on the central console that divided the two pilots, up. The engines quickly responded to the heightened amount of fuel intake, the craft picking up speed as it engaged a Seraph.

"How are our boys doing?" Commodore Garcia asked, once he had returned to the bridge. "Reports show one dropship lost, but both Sabre and Longsword squadrons remain intact, for the moment." Guy reported, his green avatar flickering for a moment, before returning to its normal state Nodding in acknowledgeent, he made his way over to a holotable displaying the small battle, while conversing with Admiral Torkamentov, over a comm link.

TheivingFan 12:57, June 25, 2011 (UTC)

10
"Tron, help me out here," Matt muttered as another Banshee exploded beside his Sabre. Not much of an accomplishment, however, as a horde of Banshees and Seraphs flooded from every open hangar on the ship. "Plug me in." Tron responded in Matt's head.

Matt unplugged the interface chip, and placed it into the Sabre's weapon systems. Suddenly, colorful markers appeared all across his visor. "What the heck, Tron?" Matt said allowed.

"It's a targeting system, Matt. Red circles indicate that the target poses a great threat. Orange is less urgent. And greens are allies." Tron transmitted. "Okay, well you only blocked half of my screen." Matt responded. "You'll get used to it." Riley stated. Matt didn't respond, and nor did Tron. Matt then remembered that Riley had recently received an AI program of his own.

"Seraph coming around your rear," Tron started, as Matt turned the turent to hit the oncoming ship. "Riley, everything okay?" Matt asked. "Just peachy," Riley sarcastically replied.

Ryder spoke through the comm to Ender, "Aim for the engines, and worry about the Banshees later! I can get them off our tail." Ender sighed. "I hope so. You always were the expert pilot out of the two of us." Ryder grinned and started to flip over the Banshees trailing them. "Ender, NOW!!!" Ryder yelled. Ender shot the missile aiming straight into the main engine and watched the explosion from the rear end of the ship. "You don't have to yell at me, Ryder," Ender smirked. "I'm capable of saving my own hide."

"Ender? Shut up."

Juliet opened her eyes. She was in a medical bay. it wasn't long before she figured out just where. Juliet tried to sit up, but the doctor pushed down, saying, "Not yet. Your leg is broken. We still need to repair it. Go back to sleep..." Juliet obeyed the command.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 15:13, June 25, 2011 (UTC)

11
"No enemy movement, Master Chief. We are holding our position"

Kane-099 sat in the engineering bay of the UNSC Bright New Day, making making checks on his armour systems. Since their flight from Reach and the subsequent battle on Hope, he hadn't had time to repair his suit fully. They had made hasty repairs on vital systems, but had not made a detailed check. In a half-an-hour, he had fixed the glitches in his motion tracker. The Spartan put on his helmet and walked over to the intercom. To an observer, the Master Chief was a giant, clad in black armour that made him difficult to see in the red emergency lights of the bay.

"This is Kane. Assemble the others, I'm coming up."

"Copy that Chief, everyone is up here but Alex, he's on his way."

"I'll be there in five. Out."

Kane made sure he had all his gear with him, including his Sniper Rifle, which had been cleaned and refitted, and his customised M7 Submachine Gun. He holstered the weapons and proceeded to the elevator. By the time Kane got to the Bridge, everyone had arrived. All of the Spartans and ODST's were present: Jax-007, Marco-025, Alex-A121, Martin-A136, Louie-A199, Sergeant Major Richard Mack Junior, Corporal Bell, and Privates Dekker, Samson, Raikov and Peterson. Several of the Frigate's few dozen technicians and engineers were in the room also, looking over computer terminals or making repairs. Mack spoke first. "Sir, we've confirmed that no Covenant ships have spotted us yet, but that may change at any moment. I'd reccomend we leave here and get back to Earth as soon as we can."

The ODST stood, staring at Kane for a few seconds more. Like his father, who had helped train the members of Sigma, he was difficult to read, and although they were both technically the same rank, the Spartan was still in charge. "I understand that we need to get back, Sergeant Major, but something is going on down there" he said flatly, gesturing out of the viewscreen towards where Hope had been. "Also" he continued. "The Cole Protocol is still in Effect. We need to ensure that no data falls into enemy hands. We don't know if the navigation databases of friendly ships were purged before they were crippled; we've got several ships out there still".

Mack sighed and nodded before turning back to one of the consoles. The ODST's of Whiskey-04 dispersed as well, closely followed by the Spartans. Their work was not done yet. Marco approached him, cradling his helmet in his hand. "Kane, I know there's some weird stuff going on with that planet, but I'm honestly not too sure what we can do. Our transmitter is fried, so we can't contact friendly ships, and our MAC has one shot left." Kane removed his helmet as Marco finished. He hadn't slept in nearly three days. "Well, we're going to hold our position here. If a Covvie ship so much as twitches towards us, we jump, allright?"

Marco Shrugged. "Just saying, we fight better with some ground beneath our feet, sir."

"I know"

Marco exited the bridge, following several technicians who were heading to the Ship's armoury. Kane sat in the Captains chair. It creaked slightly under the Spartan's weight. They would wait a while, and if there was no change within 24 hours, they would leave the system. He looked around at the men and women working at their stations. It had been his idea to charge in and assist, and that had gotten them nowhere. Hope was lost. Suddenly, red alarm klaxons began sounding as the Bridge Crew darted from screen to screen. Louie looked up from his. "Chief, we've got an incoming contact entering the system, it's coming in very close!" The Spartan stood up and activated the intercom. "All crew to stations!" He deactivated it, and spoke quietly to himself. "This is about to get interesting..."

--Brodie-001

12
Cor thought he understood the humans' tactics now. They'd made a preemptive strike, knowing that eventually the Covenant shipmasters would decide to cleanse the galaxy of them. So while the corvette was seperated from the main fleet, they were attempting to take out the threat it posed. Pragmatic, despite that even a corvette could pose a serious risk to a human destroyer.

He stood with his team of Special Operations Sangheili in a Lich-class boarding craft, having just launched from the cruiser, running dark to avoid detection for the time being. When the pilots of the two other Liches and the four Phantom gunboats activated their impulse drives to get in close and board the Grapes of Wrath, they'd be spotted and their infernal heavy guns would tear the seven ships apart in moments. But they wouldn't need much time.

"Remember your task!" Cor shouted harshly. "Take the human ship's AI, and retreat to the craft! Honor in combat means nothing if we do not complete our objective. If you fall behind, you will be left behind."

Hardly inspiring words, but that was not what his warriors needed. They needed orders, and they needed to obey them.

Private Eirikur Quinn remembered the holovid of The Most Dangerous Game from his schooling. He wished he could remember more of the parts where the main character had set traps and less of the description of how a thinking opponent made for the best sport.

The Jiralhanae's eyes had missed nothing, and as Quinn watched from under tree cover on a high bluff, the Brute had looked inside the Pelican's wreckage, sniffed the air, and set off to follow the trooper's path. He could have sworn the beast, without its armor or weapons, had looked directly at him. Now, he was gaining ground fast. Quinn had one desperate trick up his sleeve.

He selected a tall evergreen tree with low-hanging branches, and ran straight under it, then on for a good ways before he came to a wide, shallow stream. Then, he quickly and carefully walked backwards along his path to the tree, and pulled himself up into its lower branches, and climbed high into its upper shadows. Once he was safely holding onto its boughs, he sat perfectly still, waiting for his pursuer.

He didn't have to wait long.

The Brute tore through the undergrowth, its claws and muscled arms tearing aside the vegetation that had slowed the marine. He was good size as far as Brutes went, but not the biggest Quinn had seen. Its hide was coated with sweat and grime beneath knotted black fur, most held down by what remained of some sort of flight suit which had been burned and torn in several places. Its yellowed teeth poked out through its jaws, leading a pair of red eyes.

It never slowed down as it passed Quinn's hiding place. He waited about a minute, as the enemy pilot ran beyond, farther up the trail. Quinn climbed down quickly, but now able to take his time.

With any luck, the Jiralhanae would figure that he'd crossed the river, if it was unable to find his trail, it would assume he'd gone up or downstream a while to shake his pursuer. Meanwhile, the ODST would forge a completely different path, following up the stream to higher ground. If the Brute figured out this at all, Quinn would likely gain several hours which he could use for rest. But he didn't slow down his running speed. He didn't want to see this creature a second time if he could help it.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 03:43, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

13
086 Awakened Follower sent out a COM ping towards the desert planet below. To someone uninformed it would simply be a COM glitch. However the Sentinels and Enforcers received it as a signal to attack. Soon hordes of Sentinels and Enforcers were rising off the desert planet

"Delightful," said Follower "Glorious." The Forerunner drones moved towards the first enemy target; a Covenant Frigate. They fired their energy beams along the hull of the frigate. The ship's shield flicked and died under the intense barrage of fire. Tongues of flame were spreading on the ship tearing through it, murdering the crew inside. The ship lost all control and began a descent into the desert planet's atmosphere.

"Leave it," said Follower. He knew a ship that damaged could not survive re-entry. He scattered his forces. Sending them to destroy any enemy they could find. Follower however stayed behind. He quickly hacked into to the humans COM channel. "They have such simple communications," he thought to himself. He sent a message through the COM channel. "To all human forces this is 086 Awakened Follower, monitor of the Zenith Complex. I would like to arrange a parley between myself and your commander. I would like to form an agreement to fight the Covenant away from this station. Do not worry, we are on your side."--TehSpartan 15:13, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

14
"How strange," the Oracle began out of nowhere, startling Riley.

"What?" Riley asked, in a somewhat annoyed tone. "I'm reading that our next target was eliminated. Closer analysis suggests that it wasn't us who had taken in, however, and there doesn't appear to be any heavy weapon entry marks. Surprising, considering that it was neutralized so quickly."

"I see," Riley responded. He figured that he didn't have time to play detective games at the moment, and that Garcia would contact him with an explanation soon enough. Riley turned his head to the right, watching as a Seraph sped directly towards him, the exploding Covenant frigate in the distance. Riley raised his right hand, motioning for Matt to remain patient as he turned to give him a better firing angle. Riley also held clenched his turret lever. "Seraph on our-" Suddenly, the fighter jerked forward. Riley and Matt were certainly unsure of the situation, as a silver blur covered their screen. Riley squinted, figuring that it was his eyes, but upon opening them, he could clearly make out the figure of a single sentinel being smudged against his screen. The crack slowly began to form in the glass. Riley released the thrusters, and the Sentinel was lost among a wave of similar, silver shapes. The two could then make out chunks of the pink, illuminating hull of what was to be their opponent directly before them. Riley braced himself as it approached at a breakneck speed, and rolled up the hood of their Sabre. The silver wave not contained a hint of violet, with seraph, banshee, and other mechanical parts mixed in.

"To all human forces this is 086 Awakened Follower, monitor of the Zenith Complex." a curious voice began. The voice seemed to crackly, yet it didn't sound static-like. It was so believable that Riley turned back to see if Matt was making the noise. "I would like to arrange a parley between myself and your commander. I would like to form an agreement to fight the Covenant away from this station. Do not worry, we are on your side." Riley was shocked upon identifying that the voice was, in fact, a transmission. As soon as the message ceased, the standard radio static resumed.

"Th... G...ci..., Riley! Riley, Matt! Come in! Th...s is Garc...!"

"Hello, sir." Riley exclaimed as soon as he confirmed the message to be from Garcia. "Did you get the transmission?" Riley asked Garcia. "Yes, I did. And I was just about to contact you." Garcia responded. "I was going to alert you to the fact that we've found a curious alliance with those machines. It seems as though I have a meeting to attend to," --  Chris  talk   blog  16:09, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

15
"Sir." Robert stated, gazing up at a video uplink, showing an Admiral Nikolai Torkamentov on the other end. "I take it you got the memo too?" Nikolai asked, an eyebrow arched. "Yes, and about this Awakened follower... I belive it would be best if the meeting was held here, aboard the Grapes. She's the largest ship in the fleet, and would be able to withstand a Covenant attack long enough for the fleet to respond." Torkamentov remained silent a few moments, before nodded. "Alright, send a response to this montior, while I get aboard a Pelican. " Robert nodded, already gesturing to the ship's comms officer. "I'll see you." Nikolai stated, before promptly cutting the link, plunging the screen into static. Turning away from the display, Robert striaghtened his cap. "Recall all combat aircraft, and await further orders." he stated, walking over to the comms officer.

16
The strike must be accomplished quickly, before the human warriors returned. It occurred to Cor 'Kedaree that the corvette might have been bait to lure away the fighters, solely for the purpose of his attack. His Shipmaster had wanted a human AI, though he knew not why. The former Ossoona had encountered them before, they were not very worthwhile. The constructs usually were spiteful and committed suicide before any data could be extracted. The ships had just engaged the impulse drives, and were jumping straight into the middle of the humans' loose fleet formation.

"Brace yourselves!" Cor shouted at his subordinates as they slowed to normal space.

There was no immediate reaction from their enemy, only just detecting them in their midst. This moment of surprise gave the ships the time they needed. The gunships heated their cannons and fired superheated plasma into the armored sides of the Grapes of Wrath. It was not enough to do serious damage, but the Phantoms hit key areas for their response. Point-defense emplacements, launch bay doors, and a number of crew compartments with weaker armor to hurt them. Humans that had been in those sections were either killed by the decompression, or sucked into the vacuum to die in the cold, airless void.

Cor held tight as his Lich and its two wingmen rammed the side of the Wrath. Its daggerlike arms latched into the titanium-A armor and its central tube used contained plasma to burn into the ten-meter thick hull, digging open a passageway for entrance. With his SpecOps combat harness sealed, he led his warriors silently into the heart of the enemy vessel.

"Holy-" Angel kept from cussing as the Grapes of Wrath shuddered from the Liches connection. Looking over the motor pool, she saw that a circle in the outer hull was glowing, the heat from one of the Covenant ships trying to burn a hole through to gain entry.

"Boarding party! Lock and load!" she shouted, the other technicians, pilots, and marines in the bay scrambling to arm themselves. Angel found her sidearm, and saw that Goss and Wheatley were likewise pulling weapons. The crew chief even went so far as to start unscrewing the bolts holding down the heavy MG in Bravo 029's troop bay.

When the Elites came through, the marines were ready for them. A hail of lead cut anything coming out of the entry tube to bloody shreds. In answer, some started shooting blue fire before they even entered the Wrath's artificial gravity, but the humans lost nothing until one martyr Unggoy managed to light and throw a plasma grenade, landing right behind an overturned crate being used as cover by three marine security personnel.

With the screams and explosion came a gap in the firing line. And with the unceasing line of aliens coming through, it was obvious the boarding craft held an incredible amount of troops.

"Fall back!" the Lieutenant, Junior Grade yelled over the chaos. Fleeing the aliens, they fell back into the passages into the launch bay, containing them in the room.

Angel got a ping on her helmet com, and answered immediately while Goss fed an ammunition belt into Wheatley's machine gun. "This is Captain Garcia, what in the hell is going on down there?"

"LTJG Yasunaka, sir! Elites and Grunts have taken the launch bay, but we're holding them."

"Copy that, we have forces on return. The launch doors were damaged, they'll have to blow open the doors and fight their way inside. We also have reports of boarding parties advancing on the bridge and engineering. Hold tight, help will come from outside."

In a different part of the ship, Cor knew his attack was going well so far. The diversions had landed safely, and now a large force held their fighter bays and a smaller team made a feint toward their officers on the bridge. His own group, in the meanwhile, would strike at engineering, and steal the Artificial Intelligence programs housed within. Perhaps he could damage their reactors while he was there. No reason not to slow the enemy down.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 22:40, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

17
"Calamity!" Exclaimed Awakened Follower. The Covenant had just boarded the ship on which you was to meet the human commander." I must assist them," he said as he began floating towards the ship, which had been designated the UNSC Grapes of Wrath. He entered the the launch bay and saw a dreadful sight. Covenant boarders had infiltrated the ship and were engaged in a bloody battle with the humans. He targeted a large alien donned in a suit of black armor.

He charged a laser aimed at the alien who registered as a Sangheili. The laser took the creature by complete surprise his eyes bulging as the laser burned a large hole through his torso.

"Sweet Mother of God what is that thing!" Follower heard a human yell. "Greetings I am 086 Awakened Follower monitor of the Zenith Complex." The Covenant stared to disperse into cover at the arrival of a hostile Forerunner relic, an Oracle no less. Follower decided the humans could take care of themselves. "Now if you excuse me I have a meeting with your commander," he said with an air of finality.--TehSpartan 23:47, June 26, 2011 (UTC)

18
Torkamentov grimaced as alarm bells rang out across the bridge of the Grapes of Wrath. The Admiral had shuttled over for this meeting with the new allies they had gained. Only now something was wrong. "What is it," asked Torkamentov. "Sir, the Covenant have boarded the ship. We're detecting a large group in the fighter bays, and a smaller group headed towards the bridge. We also have detected a group headed towards engineering."

Thoughts raced through Torkamentov's head, and he said, "Order all security personnel to stop the boarders. Put the ship into lockdown procedure." Klaxons began to howl across the ship, and partitions slammed down in many of the corridors. "Lets hope that the guys currently fighting have enough firepower to stop the boarders," said Torkamerntov. He walked over to the monitor, and stared at the dots on the screen that calmly belied the battle raging.

Clyde ducked back behind the tree that he was using for cover. Something had been SNAFU'ed, and his squad had been dropped into the middle of a raging firefight. He ducked out again, and pulled off a couple shots with his assault rifle. As he pulled away from some plasma fire, he saw to his satisfaction that the target he had been aiming for was down. The problem was that this wasn't the best place to fight a battle, and many good men were being lost. Turning on his radio, he called out, "This is Denver Four to Command. We are under fire, requesting an airstrike. Over" The radio crackled, and out came, "Roger that, Denver Four. What is your location?" Clyde rang out the coordinates, and then ducked out again to take a shot at a couple Grunts who were trying to flank the Marines. The radio crackled again and said, "Copy that. Pelicans are en route with the delivery package. ETA is five minutes. "

The five minutes seemed to last for hours, as the fight continued. Finally, Clyde heard the humming of helicopter blades as the Pelicans passed overhead. He dove to the ground as bombs impacted among the Covenant positions. Getting up, he saw that the bombs had wrecked much of the Covenant defensive emplacements. A plasma shot whizzed by, and Clyde ducked down again. The bombs hadn't gotten all of them, but this would make things easier. Clyde decided to risk it. He stood up, and ran to the nearest Covenant defense point. Hopping behind one of their emplaced guns, he turned it on the remaining defenders. Soon, they were all dead or running.

The rest of Denver Squad came up and took possession of the defenses. The squad leader came forward, looked him over, and said, "Denver Four, you are one reckless son of a bitch. Either you're going to wind up dead, or we're going to have to give you a medal." Clyde looked himself over. Nothing had injured him except for bruises and a few minor cuts. The squad leader roared, "Alright Denver Squad. Reload, and lets get a move on. We can't keep the bastards waiting, can we?" "NO, sir," yelled the rest of the squad.

--Azecreth 17:49, June 27, 2011 (UTC)

19
Riley made slowly flew his heavily-damaged sabre to the first hangar bay that he could identify on the Grapes. He watched as the silver horde of sentinels swarmed the hull of the attacking vessel. As soon as Delta 09 and Ryder's Delta 12 made their way into the hangar, the casualties of war had soon become apparent. They were amongst the only sabres to make it back successfully. Riley watched as a single pelican dropship followed them into the hangar. It had amazed him that Bravo 029 was still fully operational. It had surpassed it's expected lifetime many years ago. It seemed as though the old ship was holding onto life with every ounce of strength that it had. From the look of Morale's ruined longsword, returning after it's first battle, Riley was certain that survival was a matter of luck.

Ryder leapt from the cockpit of Delta 12 with a look of disgust across his face. He gazed across the room, watching as a group of sentinels patrolled the entire hangar bay. If anyone knew just how disillusioned these ancient AI were, it was him. It had been sentinels and enforcers who safely escorted the damaged fighters back to the Grapes. It was also them who were holding-off the banshees and seraphs currently swarming the damaged side of the vessel and forcing them to retreat. Then again, it was those whom broke his leg, and them who were responsible for the brutal deaths of every-last living thing who had resided on Hope at the time of it's collapse.

An unfamiliar heptagonal-shaped construct made it's way to the exhausted group. "Oh dear me, biologically enhanced humans! You must be the Spartans!"

"Yes, we are." Riley calmly stated, walking up to the hovering chunk of metal. "Commodore Garcia requests you to attend the meeting. After all, you are among his right hand men." the AI hovered towards the the neighboring corridor expecting the group to follow him. Ender was confused. "Right hand-?"

"Shh! He probably wants us to serve as his bodyguards." Matt whispered in response. "Think we could take out a few angry floaters?" Matt mused, loading his rifle. Ryder smiled. Luc stepped before the scheming Spartans. "But only if it's necessary."--  Chris  talk   blog  18:31, June 27, 2011 (UTC)

20
"Turok! Wake up!"

As the Elite staggeringly stood, the first thing that came to Turok's mind was "Where am I?" The second thing was the voice on the loudspeaker. Commandore Garcia called out to Turok, "The Covenant have have come aboard the Grapes of Wrath! I need you to go to the locker to pick up your equipment."" As Turok put on his battle harness, he noticed the second energy sword.

Silum's energy sword.

Turok remembered how he got the sword. As Turok ran from that crazy Engineer, he picked up the sword, throwing away the other blade he took from the Zealot. Turok remembered the Ultra and the battle the two had. Silum fought too calmly for an Covenant warrior, and Turok heard that Huragok call him her "little Heretic." Turok now knew that his battle against the more experienced warrior was actually a battle of allies. "Shame he's dead" Turok thought as he finished putting on his armor, We would have made a good team.

As Turok put on his helmet, the HUD came on, and Garcia's voice came into the earpiece. "Turok, head down into engineering and protect the major reactors. I've got a meeting with a floating eyeball and need the crew to hold the ship. Keep an eye on those machines." Turok nodded and silently spoke back, "Understood."

21
Though the few humans still alive were fighting and dying in corners around him, Cor walked calmly through the reactor rooms. His focus rifle rested solidly on his back, ready should he need it. He heard the familiar screams and smell of burning flesh, but he had no time to take part in the combat. He had a priority task.

Approaching one of the Wrath's consoles, he began typing in human script, a talent he'd picked up from one of his superiors in his previous post, Veral T'ramee. He'd always been better than Cor at slicing into human systems and pulling what was needed, but it was frustrating that at the same time he was an infinitely better duelist. That was when Cor had started to learn the use of the Covenant Army's wrist blades. With them, he was quite skilled.

There. This classification of human ship housed two AI for its own use, plus it seemed, several more that were present. Of its own operation AIs, one was active. He blocked it with the codes T'ramee had used in the Lance, which the humans didn't have a developed defense against. Next, he used manifests to find where the other was being held, in an isolated sort of storage drive. There it was, with two other AI in similar storage.

Quickly, Cor and his two lieutenants climbed to a second-level shelf, and there found the storage. Housed in a beam of light, each of the three seemed to be curled asleep. Without trouble, Cor transferred them into their respective storage devices and pulled them. The first was the Wrath's operations AI, the second and third he was uninterested in until the third. . . awakened. . . just before he withdrew it. The fact that it had done so perturbed him. Filing the event for later study, he turned to look at the exit on the first floor when light flashed from it.

Two of the Special Ops Sangheili fell dead, their wounds smoking. There stood a Sangheili Major Domo, or Officer, with a sword ignited in each claw. As it looked up towards Cor, recognition led him to curl his mandibles in amusement. "The heretic." Had he the time, he would have engaged Turok himself. But the captured programs needed to be taken.

"'Moram!" Cor called, insulting him by negating the honorary 'ee' suffix. He addressed his lieutenants, who'd drawn their swords and demanded blood. "Kill him."

Cor left through another door to return to his Lich with the AI, as the two Special Ops Sangheili jumped down and prepared to attack Turok 'Moram.

He was in trouble. Quinn had kept running, but the Jiralhanae had picked up his trail and gained on him once again. He didn't have a chance if he kept running, and fighting him was suicide. So he took a third option.

Quinn wasn't very experienced at setting traps, but he had just enough time to cut away at a branch's bark, exposing the springy wood at the center. Then, he secured it with a tripwire made from a twine in his belt pouch, and set the knife in it.

This was a longshot at best, but it was in a place the Brute would no doubt pass through. But if it didn't work, he'd be weaponless and had lost too much ground to try any other trick. Quinn turned and ran as soon as he had his trap set. He'd only just made it up an embankment beyond it when he heard a snarl far behind him. Casting a fearful look over his shoulder at the beast that had just come into view, he continued to scramble up the sandy wall.

Then a cry of pain and shock broke over his ears. Spinning, he looked fearfully to his trap site.

Laid out on the ground, the Brute's chest was stained a deep purple color, the blade of the knife having gone in hilt-deep. Relief flooded over the trooper. After a moment spent catching his breath, he walked down and cautiously approached. The jiralhanae still breathed, but made no move. Only stared fearfully at him. Quinn withdrew the knife, then drove it down into the monster's chest thrice, making sure it was dead.

With the last of the enemy's breath gone, he wiped the knife clean of blood by wiping it on the creature's matted fur. Briefly, he realized he was losing compassion for the enemy. Perhaps he'd never had any. After, he left it and continued on his trek, searching for a point to call for extraction.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 02:26, June 29, 2011 (UTC)

22
Commodore Garcia sat silently, leaning slightly against his side of the table. His left hand raised a delicate glass from the table, in which he sipped from, before returning the cup without paying it any notice. To his right, stood Ryder, and to his left, stood Riley. Garcia's eye's were fixed on the opposite end of the table, towards Follower, a red-eyed monitor, accompanied by two other similar AI. "I guess that I shouldn't have expected much as you to offer me a glass of champagne," the central monitor mused. Garcia smiled softly, taking another sip. "Well if figured that you had a mouth, I might have just done so." Garcia responded. Garcia opened hiss mouth again, but recoiled in order to contemplate his statement.

Garcia lowered his hand, gently, before releasing a sharp sigh. "So you are not wish to do us any harm?" Garcia queried. "My purpose is to ensure your survival. I would never do such a thing... purposely." the hologram responded. Garcia didn't ask what he had meant by "purposely", as he was obviously referencing the incident on Hope.

23
Torkamentov glanced at the clock as he managed to crisis. It looked like he was going to miss his meeting with this "Enforcer", although he supposed that he had a good excuse. turning his head, he said, "How long until we get those anti-boarding defenses back online?" The techie working feverishly glanced up and said, "A few more minutes. I have to switch to the backup AI system, since ours got stolen." Torkamentov turned towards the internal ship sensors. "Where is the Covenant bastard that stole our AI's?" "Sir, it looks like he's either headed back to the ship he came in on, or towards one of our escape pods." Torkamentov thought quickly, and issued the orders. "Alright. Do whatever you can to stop that Covenant son of a bitch. Depressurize the compartments in front of him if you have to. I don't want him getting off this ship."

"Admiral," said another techie, "We have a situation." Looking up, Torkamentov saw that a group of Covenant soldiers was approaching the bridge. He glanced over, and the techie working at the console said, "Just a few more seconds. Stall them if you have to." Torkamentov nodded, and got on the comm to the corridor outside. "You there. Yes, you in the corridor. I'm going to have to ask you to surrender immediately, or I'm going to be forced to kill you all." The elite in charge stared at the camera and laughed, then said, "And how are you going to do that human? I figure it is only a matter of time before we cut our way inside and kill you all." Torkamentov glanced at the techie, who nodded. He said, "Well, there's an ODST squad at the end of the hallway might have something to say about that." as the Covenant looked around, he yelled, "Now! Target all unknown life forms, except for our Enforcer friends." Across the ship, miniguns deployed from the ceiling on turrets, and began shooting rapidly at the Covenant boarders.

"Admiral. Before we started shooting, I noticed that there was a Covenant life form shooting at two other covenant life forms in the Engine Room. Should we leave him out?" Torkamentov nodded. "I suppose so. Wouldn't want to accidentally kill an ally." He checked the camera outside the door to see that all the Covenant previously there were either dead, or had fled the ship. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, "I have a meeting to attend." Torkamentov exited the bridge, stepping over the bullet-riddled bodies of the Covenant boarders who had tried to kill him. --Azecreth 19:14, July 5, 2011 (UTC)

24
The bulkhead door before him slammed shut, heavy metal plates locking to cut him off. Cor halted and snarled.

"Your intrusion has been halted." said a human voice. It was the Wrath's other artificial intelligence system. "Surrender the other programs immediately. Lay down your arms and you will be counted a Prisoner of War. If not, I am forced to terminate you."

Though the one Sangheili and pair of Unggoy with him looked up to find the source of the voice, Cor was too familiar with humans to suffer that moment of embarrassment. What's more, he was able to understand and even speak the human language.

"You should know that no Sangheili would dishonor themselves by giving in without fighting to the last." his mandibles formed a defiant smile. "However, I have a more appealing option."

With a flash, his wrist blades snapped on, their pale blue energy hissing. Cor sank them into the door, raw heat of plasma cutting through the titanium-A like butter. Once he'd cut a molten circle into the metal, he allowed his blades to retire as he drew the Focus Rifle. With quick aim, he let a long stream of orange energy burn through until there was an empty ring surrounded by the glowing metal.

He stepped through without consequence, and checked that the room had no targets before ushering through the others. One of the Unggoy burned its forearm on the slag, squealing in pain. Cor sealed his suit. The lack of violent response from human warriors worried him. It meant they were planning, and he hated when they did that. As he ran to the next lock, the wall suddenly opened up to the void of space.

Cor was fortunate. As the explosive decompression threw his companions into an airless expanse, his sealed suit and being in an alcove where the door was saved him. He did not worry about his escort, they were already lost. Cor struggled against howling wind, recovering from being thrown against a wall. Quickly, he scrambled to the door and opened it, then crawled inside and shut it behind him.

That had been too close. If the cold hadn't killed him, he would have floated freely, and the humans could have retrieved his body and the AIs at their leisure. He needed to ensure they wouldn't do something like that again.

And here was a perfect opportunity. A marine response team, coming to meet him. Slipping into active camouflage, he sank into the background and waited until they'd nearly passed him before striking, his blades quick, accurate, and lethal. In seconds, six marines became four, four became three, and three became one. Fear blossomed in the woman's eyes, raising her rifle only to have it slashed into two pieces by his wrist blade.

Many times stronger than his hostage, Cor pinned her arms behind her back, and began to move again towards his Lich. He didn't need to get the attention of the ship's active AI. He already had it.

An ODST pod. There were no life signs coming from inside, but the door was still sealed. Even if it meant the body of a dead trooper, Quinn's curiosity had to know what was inside.

Jumping down into the crater it had carved in the dirt, he noted the ceramic armor had been dented just about everywhere. This thing had taken a beating, but what was stranger still was the thick layer of clay and dirt on its outside. Usually, a SOEIV was just burned up. This one looked like it had been through a landslide.

Quinn realized it actually had. This probably landed on Hope's surface, and had been caught in the collapse. He found and hit the explosive bolts.

As it hissed, the trooper ducked under the door as it blew off its frame and soared into the jungle. Hesitantly, he looked inside.

It was a suit of SPARTAN armor. MJOLNIR Mark V(b).

Momentarily stunned, he realized the suit was empty. Most of it was in separate pieces thrown around the pod, but the helmet and chest were locked into the seat. He recognized the helmet. This was Riley's suit. He remembered that Riley had been wearing an ODST suit after returning from Hades, and a marine BDU the last time he'd seen him. Rowan must have sent down Riley's old armor in this second pod.

Quinn considered it for a moment. There was no way he could bring it with him, it weighed three times what he did. After a while, he placed a waypoint over the pod to find it later. This stuff was expensive, after all.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 03:34, July 6, 2011 (UTC)

25
As Torkamentov strolled toward the room where the meeting was being held, his radio crackled to life. "Admiral, this is the bridge. We have a situation." Torkamentov fumbled at his radio for a second, then pressed down the send button and said, "This is Torkamentov. What is it?" The response came over the radio. "The Covenant who stole our AI's, he's taken a hostage. We tried spacing him, but it seems he survived, and he took out most of the marine squad we sent in." Torkamentov sighed, and said, "What's he doing now?" The radio crackled, and out came, "He's still heading towards his boarding vessel. We're holding fire for now. What should we do?" Torkamentov paced down the hall as he thought. Finally, he came to a decision. "Shoot the bastard. Shoot him dead. I don't want him getting off this ship except in a body bag, if even that." He could almost hear the uproar on the bridge through the inactive radio. Finally, the radio crackled to life. "But, sir, the hostage?" "He knew what he signed up for when he joined the Corp. He vowed to give his life for the UNSC and for Earth. The information that those AI's have, if they ever get back to the Covenant, could very well lead to the destruction of Earth. So shoot. Now. That is a direct order."

With that, Torkamentov put his radio back on his belt, and strolled into the meeting room. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he found a seat, "I was dealing with a crisis." Turning to the Enforcer, he said, "Admiral Gingrich regrets not being able to be here, but he sent me in his place." --Azecreth 17:15, July 7, 2011 (UTC)

26
"I assure you that what had happened on Hope was not my doing." Follower claimed in a calm, soft tone. "In fact, it was your conflict with these races that caused planetary instability!"

"Us?" Riley interrupted, "I'd hardly say that we are at all responsible for this war." The monitor opposite of Riley hovered forward. "And we are only here to help."

"It would of helped if your kind hadn't killed just about every-living being on Hope!" Ryder growled under his breath, yet there was no doubt that the AI could hear him. Garcia looked up at Ryder with a somewhat angered look. After a momentary pause, Follower continued his rant.

"Two minutes and thirty-two seconds ago, our AI had eliminated had neutralized yet another Covenant warship on the offense. Much of the remainder of your fleet has been secured, and I think that you should know, you will endure the ensuing fight with us defending you."

Suddenly, a door on the side of the room had slid open. The entire party turned and watched as the security guard admitted Admiral Torkamentov into the meeting. Torkamentov slid his transmitter into his belt upon entering the conference. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he found a seat, "I was dealing with a crisis." Turning to the Enforcer, he said, "Admiral Gingrich regrets not being able to be here, but he sent me in his place."

The monitor merely hovered in place, its central red eye almost frightening. "Oh, this shall do. Is Admiral Gingrich well?" it asked, attempting to imitate true emotion. Torkamentov nodded, eyeing the floating sphere curiously. "Yes, um... He is at the helm, right now." Torkamentov said, getting into the diplomatic moodset. "Um, Garcia?" Torkamentov asked, turning towards the UNSC's representative. "Yes?" Garcia asked. "May I speak to you in private for a moment?"--  Chris  talk   blog  18:21, July 7, 2011 (UTC)

27
It was as good a spot as any to Quinn as he pulled himself over and onto the top of the ridge. A clear day, a good view of the surroundings, and his only chance of being seen by the UNSC. He turned on his helmet radio, looking skyward.

"This is Private Eirikur Quinn to any receiving UNSC unit. I am stranded on an unknown planet, requesting pick-up as soon as possible. Over."

No immediate response came, which was about expected. He sat down, realizing he might be here a while. He'd try repeating his message again in five minutes, and if that didn't work, five more minutes. As long as it took to get rescue.

"Shoot! Your orders are to shoot!"

Cor heard the command through the human marine's earpiece, not the one he held hostage, but the one staring him down at the other end of a gun. The human male, his patch reading Komoro in human script, stared him down icily, but against the shouts of his commander, held fire.

Evidently, they'd seen the value of three AI was more than one human's. This was wise of them, he'd seen them foolishly try to save every life before. As this human was doing.

Keeping his blade near the hostage marine's throat, he kept her between them as he edged around to the Lich's boarding tube. All the other Elites were dead, either by Komoro or Moore and his team.

Cor believed the weapon he held was an empty threat as long as a life hung in the balance. Now. . . with his back already in the safety of his ship, he no longer needed this one, whom he had used to save his life. . . for a moment, he thought he was becoming lax in his duty to destroy their kind. But if they would all die eventually, what did it matter?

He shoved the marine to the deck, and took his leave of the Wrath. The pilot turned in his seat and questioned where the others were, but Cor's only response was ordering him to disengage. The Lich floated away from the hull of the ship a moment before its engines kicked in, turning and accelerating the ship away.

The last surviving Phantom gunship took up a position on their wing, but was lost within moments, and the Lich engaged its impulse drive, escaping alone into the safety in reach of the Covenant flotilla.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 07:22, July 11, 2011 (UTC)

28
"The navigation core have been stolen!" Garcia stated in rage, his whispers loud and projecting. Torkamentov appeared just as disappointed. "Yes, I am afraid. As well as the defensive AI. I am afraid that we are sitting ducks in this battle. We are in no position to simply pass on their assistance, much less one to spark a vengeful conflict with them, Garcia." Garcia took Torkamentov's words into consideration. "Admiral." Torkamentov continued delicately and respectfully, as he almost had trouble coming to terms with Garcia's second, most recent promotion. "I am aware that this AI had chosen you as its bridge for establishing diplomacy, and you shall be its bridge. What it does once we allow it to pass that bridge comes later, but foreshadowing is an asset we simply don't have. I will not allow you to have us lose this battle... this war." Torkamentov stated with a hint of anger. Garcia paused. "I feel the same way, Torkamentov. I see that we must side with them, or at least for now. Either way, what they had done on reach shall not go unnoticed!" Garcia looked back through the glass, watching as Follower engaged his attendants in conversation. It took Garcia a moment to come to the realization that this thing wasn't just an AI, but something much more advanced. Something that was at least as capable as him in his prime. Garcia just hoped that it could be trusted in using its political ambition wisely. As Garcia turned back, his executive, Morgan caught his eyes. Andre sat wryly, his emotionless gaze set on Garcia, almost curious in nature, with a professional stance. Upon their eye's meeting, Andre took another sip of his drink, slowly turning back towards Follower. Something was up with him recently, and if only he had the time to ask what, he would do so.

Garcia and Torkamentov strode back into the room, now with everyone's eyes on them. Follower inched forward from his position. "Oh!" he exclaimed giddily, "I know that whatever the matter, it is really none of my business, but... If you require a helping hand, we would be more than happy to extend one to you!" Torkamentov shot Garcia a sharp glance, one which Garcia received out of the corner of his eye. Garcia nodded. "The situation is rather dire, and I feel as though I am speaking for everyone in this room in saying that I would like to accept your offer. Let me elaborate on the situation..."

He had not been speaking for everyone is his accepting Follower's offer. Ryder was amongst the first of the officers to leave upon dismissal. Ryder could imagine Garcia's discussion in his head, and knew that he wouldn't have taken any officer's shit when it came to the dealings. Ryder had a soft spot for civilians, and the unjustified death of every civilian on Hope could not go unaccounted for. He wouldn't have it, even if it meant that he went rouge. At first, Ryder didn't notice the immediate pat on the shoulder. "It's all for the best." Riley exclaimed. "There is a time for justice, and a time that you need to take all of the help that you are offered. It's all about playing your cards right... and maybe, they will be justifying some of the mistake of the other sentinels in the process. An act of penance."

Ryder shrugged. Deep down, he sort of appreciated Riley's advice. Somehow, he was wise beyond his years, or even Ryder's years. Riley was sort of a conscience. A wise little angel that would sit upon his shoulder and not just order him to accept what was right and wrong, but would elaborate why. Ryder smiled beneath his helmet, but by this time, Riley was gone. Riley was no angel. He was thoughtful and critical-minded, yet moral. He was like a mixture of Ryder and Matt, two polar opposites, yet best friends. Ryder couldn't exactly place his relationship with Riley. Suddenly, Riley began to seem a whole lot more enigmatic in his mind.

After the discussion, the halls seemed almost double as occupied by sentinels. Riley was surprised to see Matt, Morales and Ender as he rounded the next corner. They must have been waiting for him and Ryder. Ender acknowledged Riley with a friendly heads-up, and headed directly past him towards Ryder. Matt seemed to be engaged in an active conversation with another orange-eyed monitor, in which Riley could clearly make out the tense noise of clashing religions. Morales was reloading his weapon. Without even looking at Riley, he began speaking. "'Erd the sentinels are on our side now." Riley nodded, "You got that right. Let's not let this break us into a civil war now." Morales grunted, and then began chuckling. "Aw. That's exactly what I had in mind." "Yeah, well they are doing a good thing. Let's not spoil the act." Morales shrugged. "I hate how they cut our last attack plan short last time with this meeting shit. Let's not forget that our primary enemy is the Covenant, and that tensions are rising. Someone's gonna snap any moment. Hell the Covenant may have snapped already! You wouldn't believe the load of shit that I heard today about the Grapes' AIs being stolen..." Riley kept a straight face at this, and Morale's expression was no longer amused. "So they're coordinating with us in a full fledged assault... What do you think about this?" Riley made a "what can you do about it" face, cocking his assault rifle.--  Chris  talk   blog  03:33, July 12, 2011 (UTC)

29
"Look, sometimes you have to ask why stuff happens and there's no logical answer for. Early humans called it God. You're calling it your Creators?" Matt asked.

686 Innocent Shock levitated calmly. "Tell me one thing that you believe is influenced by your "God" and I'll give a logical answer."

"The creation of the animals on Earth." Matt stated almost instinctually.

Shock almost laughed, but decided not to in order to avoid offending Matt. "Evolution. Simple. Haven't you ever learned of that in your childhood?"

"I never went to a regular school when I was young..." Matt stated, looking down.

Shock wasn't too surprised. "Ah, because of a disorder?"

Matt looked up, his cheeks glowing a bright red. He was greatly offended, and Shock instinctually hovered back in defense. "I was kidnapped as a child, augmented, and transformed into a super-soldier, when do you thing that I would have gone to an normal-kid school, asshole?!" Matt then reclined against the wall and fell silent.

For once, Shock felt guilty. "Oh, dear me. I am quite sorry about that... If it is alright with you, I wouldn't mind continuing our conversation...

Matt took a moment, "Well what about the basics. There was a Tower of Babel... uh, Noah's Ark?"

"As yes, the Ark and the great Flood. Allow me to recount this tale-"

"Hey Matt. What's going on?" Ryder interrupted in a slightly forced cheery tone. "You okay, Ryder?" Matt asked. Tron appeared randomly again. The AI was a ghastly shade of white.

"Why do you bother talking to these mechanical shits?" Ryder silently and forcefully whispered as he pushed 686 out of the way. Shock hovered back in surprise. "I heard that, you know."

Matt shook his head in disappointment. "Ryder, you should know by know, I don't hate them."

Ryder looked surprised. "I know. But you heard it's remark about-!"

"I know. It was a mistake, Ryder. Unless you have any relatable input to this conversation, mind your own business."

Ryder fell back into the shadows

(will finish up later)---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 12:00, July 14, 2011 (UTC)

30
"Slipspace rupture off our bow!"

The UNSC Bright New Day slowly turned to face this possible threat. On the bridge, the assembled Spartans of Sigma Team were powerless against this unknown contact. Kane-099 sat at the helm, with his XO, Jax-007, tapping furiously at a console. Most of the few dozen crewmen lucky enough to have been on the ship when it escaped reach were either on the bridge, or in the firing control room with Marco-025, who had taken charge or manually firing the MAC.

"Chief, It's gonna pass right over us!"

It did. A single ship emerged, much smaller than the Frigate. Even from the Bridge, Kane could see that something was wrong as it passed over the top of the Bright New Day. Marco contacted him. "It'll take us a bit to align the MAC once we've turned, shall I fire?"

Sergeant Major Richard Mack Junior was already prepping Whiskey-04 for combat. The six-man ODST squad seemed riled up; they had been forced to babysit the ship since they had landed on Hope hours ago, and were itching for action. Mack put on his helmet and tapped it twice: a 'good luck' tradition by the Helljumpers. "Sir, the squad is ready for EVA Combat, if need be." The ODST had been serving as long as Kane, but still looked to the Spartan for orders.

Kane nodded, and turned back to the bridge crew. Martin-A136 was the only helmetless Spartan present, reading over the scrolling coordinates on his console. He sighed, obviously tired, before putting his helmet on. "The Ship is human. Belongs to ONI in fact." Despite it being human, the SPARTAN-II felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Strange, since Sigma had been reporting directly to them for the last 27 years.

Martin continued.

"We're also receiving a distress signal on an encrypted channel. The ship, the UNSC Heavens Asunder, is dead in space. Almost all systems are down."

Kane was actually impressed with the younger Spartan, being able to get into their channel.

"How do you know it's dead in space?"

"I looked out the window"

Both Spartans turned to look out of the bridge's large viewport. There, floating, illuminated only by the light of a nearby star, was the Heavens Asunder.

"Sergeant Major, I'm leaving you in charge, I'm taking Marco, Jax and two of your men in a pelican to check it out. If we get killed or any covvies show up, leave. That's an order". The ODST saluted and ran back towards the bridge. The four others entered the Hangar, where several Pelican dropships remained. Corporal Bell and Private Raikov had joined the Spartan-II's in their mission.

The Pelican took off, Jax piloting, and flew towards the smaller ship. The crew checked their weapons: Kane had foregone his usual Sniper for a Submachine gun, Jax had a shotgun, and Marco and the ODST's all had standard issue Assault Rifles. Raikov loaded his weapon before speaking. "I'm not sure about you, but doesn't this feel like the start of some horror flick?". Everyone laughed at this for a few seconds until their minds started digesting the information. No one spoke for the rest of the trip, until Jax announced they were nearing the airlock, snapping Kane out of thinking of ways to kill a seven-headed space monster.

After making sure their suits were sealed tight, the Pelican's rear door opened. Jax had handed controls over to Corporal Bell, and stood by Marco as he attempted to unseal the airlock. On their motion trackers, a single blip appeared. It was red: unknown or hostile. He glanced at the other Spartans, who had noticed it too. The indicator on the airlock flashed green and it whirred open. The three Spartans stepped inside, and the Pelican, piloted by the two ODST's, flew off.

The SPARTAN-II's raised their weapons as the red blip drew closer.

31
"Ah thank you very much," stated 086 Awakened Follower. "What?" responded Admiral Torkamentov.

"Oh. My Sentinels have located your ship's AI Construct. It appears to be on the Covenant Reverence-Class Cruiser Patient Devotion," he responded. "My Sentinels cannot recover it personally, but if you act with haste and send a strike force to recover it promptly I am sure it can be reclaimed."

"Well then it would not be wise to waste our opportunity, I will assemble a strike force at once," said the Admiral.

"Admiral Torkamentov, it would be a great honor for me to help assist this endeavor personally it has been a long since I have seen combat." Follower declared. Torkamentov appeared to be thinking.

"Excellent, I shall assemble a group of Sentinels to assist with the infiltration," Follower interrupted hastily, before he flew off to initiate the strike.--TehSpartan 21:14, July 16, 2011 (UTC)

32
Cor stalked the hallways of the Patient Devotion, walking through the prison blocks. He'd stared into the cell of one for several units after his return. Guarded by an impudent Unggoy named Rasaab, the human troops captor, one lay face down, mercifully unconscious after the punishment his body had endured. The flesh on his back had been torn and seared by plasma devices, and the scars would be slow to heal. The female among them had recently given birth, which made him wonder why she had been so close to the battlefield in such a condition. Perhaps it had been because of a lack of places to flee. The humans must be running out of those.

As the others crowded around her and the tortured man, a semblance of their unit identity still present, one particular one had stood opposite him behind the plasma barrier wall, staring him down and shielding the others from the sight of him. Bold, he thought, even when he knew his defiance could easily cost him his life.

Nothing had been gleaned from the AI he had captured. At least, not yet. Each had purged their stellar coordinate data long before he'd returned to the cruiser, and they had careful encryption on data the Covenant technicians had halted them from deleting. It could take time, and Cor found himself wondering how much of that they really had.

The Sentinel attack upon them had left the remaining half of the flotilla shaken. The holy constructs had fired upon them, for what reason was still unknown. Cor had never much cared for the Covenant's religion, the Sangheili fought, that was all he needed to know. Finding how they had provoked the Sentinels was to be left to the sect of battle-priests aboard. And then there was the matter of the heretic.

'Moram had slain Cor's lieutenants, he was sure of that, or they would have caught up with him aboard the Lich. 'Kedaree had not been assigned the task, but he was taking it upon himself to architect his demise. To do that, however, he had to know the next moves of the three factions: the Humans, the Sentinels, and his own Covenant masters. And to that end, he would have to talk to the exalted Huragok, Lower than Few.

Night was approaching for Quinn on the planet's surface. He was glad of his suit's insulation, it would keep him warm and dry for the jungle night. He hadn't encountered any predators so far, and he doubted any would be as fearsome as the Jiralhanae he'd killed. Sending out his radio message one more time, he settled in to sleep, and start broadcasting again in the morning.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 06:16, July 17, 2011 (UTC)

33
"Alright boys and girls." Moore said as he approached Shouji and his new team of ODSTs who were replacing his dead squad of whom he and Shouji were the only survivors. "We are going to raid some covie ship the 'patent devilish' or some shit like that. We are boarding in five strike teams: India, China, Korea, Singapore, and Japan. We are strike team Korea and are boarding in the a small hangar bay. The other teams are boarding through other hangars or making their own entry points through explosives. Each team consists of around thirty men and those floating robo guys who are now with us. All of you losers following? No offense Shouji that comment wasn't directed at you."

"None taken." Shouji calmly said.

"Now we are taking these two pelicans." Moore said pointing to a pair of pelican dropships painted pitch black with a three gun rotary gauss cannon in the place of the chin gun. "Any questions?"

"Sir what happens when we get inside?" Asked one ODST, a corporal raising his hand with a bandolier of shotgun shells across his chest.

"Well, strike teams China, and India are going to find our AIs and secure the bridge. Korea, Singapore, and Japan are going to help cleanse the ship and cause a distraction. Our sentinels can hack into the network of the ship, as it would turn out command has a plan to use our floating eyeball thingys to take over the ship and use it against the enemy so we got our work cut out for us."

"So we do the hard work cleansing the ship while the other teams rescue the AIs and get all the credit for saving overpriced computer chips?" Asked the same corporal.

"Yep." Moore said. "You just have to love your job sometimes huh? Now get in the bird and let's do this." With this Moore picked up his assault rifle and led his team into the bird, sitting down he waited for command to give the go order where the other ships would leave the bay and board the Covenant warship. Foxtrot12 01:38, July 18, 2011 (UTC)

34
086 Awakened Follower drifted down towards the Hanger Bay from which the assault would launch.

"Ah you must be Moore," said Follower to the Human ODST's apparent commander.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" the human replied

"Greetings I am 086 Awakened Follower Monitor of this ..." Follower was cut off.

"Yeah, Yeah," interrupted Moore "Men this is the 'ight bulb that will command the sentinels."

"Well I would hardly call myself a light bulb." Follower retorted. "But I am here to assist you with the combat and give you tactical updates on the other teams."

"Before your team enters the ship, my Sentinels will hack the defenses mechanisms near your entry point. Please note that we cannot keep them inactive forever and if you are too slow you will be shot down."

"Brilliant." said an ODST whose Nameplate read MacArthur.

Moore shrugged. "Okay. We figured that we were gonna bomb the hangar open, but you've had more experience. You heard the light bulb men, let's move."--TehSpartan 00:14, July 21, 2011 (UTC)

35
"I know what your thinking, and it's crazy." Matt exclaimed, hauling the final crate of c12 explosive into the rear-end of Battlegroup Japan's longsword interceptor. Riley chuckled softly. "Isn't it obvious. Garcia said to get creative."

Matt shrugged, "I'd tell you that the loss of an entire battlegroup of Spartans isn't a light burden to carry, but you won't have to... 'cause you'll be dead too." Matt turned to Ryder. "Hey man. You agree too, right?"

"God, I've been through ten times the danger. Either way, you can't override my decision, no matter how many "opposes" you get." Riley replied. Matt shrunk back into the seat closest to the exit. "But I'm a chief, and I think Ryder's the same as you... so together, that equals, like... crap! Ryder, we're the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy!"

Riley and Ryder smirked at that statement. Deep down, however, the two were dismayed. Knowing Matt, he could have very well been serious. "Nah, t's better than letting those machines have all the fun."

Riley turned back to face the rest of the team, which was composed primarily of marines in vacuum suits. Apparently, three sentinels were joining for supervisional purposes, in maintaing communications and ensuring coordination. Two familiar faces stood out from the group of marines, Miranda Lopez and Randy Campbell, the two officers who were rescued from Hades a while back.

Riley silently cleared his throat. "For those of you who don't remember the plan, we're piloting this rigged hunk of junk right into the head of that cruiser." Riley said, patting the hull of the vessel. Ryder spoke up, trying to sound confident on the mission. "We may be Japan, but we ain't no kamikaze. We leap out the back a good fifteen-seconds early and liberate whatever decks we can, hopefully, the bridge too." Riley climbed in, as Ryder signaled the rest of the team in.

Riley sighed and claimed his seat besides Morales, who was wearing the same enhanced BDU. "It's a go?" Morales asked, looking to Riley, who merely nodded. "You bet. Rev up the engines." The back of the longsword was silent, as though they figured this to be their death sentence. Riley kept from rolling his eyes. The jump would be easy, but the infiltration... He knew well enough that any day could be his last, and in the open cross-fire that this would be, he couldn't be certain that they were even gonna make it to the target.

As Riley finished his sentence, the interceptor began rolling from the hangar, and immediately swerved directly upwards, beginning it's ascent around the vessel, surrounded by a group of tightly-packed sentinels and a single enforcer, which soon turned back to engage a banshee. Two pelicans immediately came into view.

"This is First Sergeant Dennis Moore, we have a visual on you." Riley knew Moore from Hope. Riley kept getting the feeling that he was halving a family reunion throughout the past few days. Riley reached out for the comm before Morales could do so, and spoke into it. "T's good to see you alive, Moore. It's Riley-G311 here." It took Moore a second to recall. "Hey Riley, hows the team?"

"We all made it out. I'm squad leader now." Riley replied. "That's good. I think we're engaging!" Moore veered-off, caught in a tangle with two sabres. Morales swept over and Riley assisted, immediately bombing the first Sabre. Before he could turn back, however, a burning banshee collided with the underside of the cockpit, and began sliding down. The craft swayed to the right. What a coincidence, it seemed that the Covenant were launching another attack, exactly as they were. This was going to be interesting.

36
Angel was nervous about letting Bravo 029 run the gauntlet with the rest of the assault group, its repairs still not complete, and even if they were, unable to withstand the firepower of a Covenant capital ship. But the array of new Sentinel allies taking point counted for something.

Alarms blared as they came within the known range of the cruiser's guns. Ignoring it and keeping her ship on a steady course took nerves of steel, but she forced herself to do so and spoke into her com, "Okay, we're about to get some turbulence. Let the Sentinels take the hit while they hack into their battle net, it'll be our job from there."

Staring out across the gap they were closing, tiny points of blue light formed on the Covenant ship's laterals, and around the UNSC craft a line of Sentinels moved to defend them by putting metal between them.

Quinn had woken from his slumber, but hadn't dared move. Some subconscious connection of his senses told him he was not alone here. He couldn't hear or see anything in the forest around him, but he knew beyond doubt something was nearby. His primal instincts feared the worst, creating images of dark, alien creatures. Something hostile.

He'd killed a Brute with his knife and ingenuity alone, but there was more to a battle than that. This was fear, something he wasn't easily able to fight against. Laying still, listening to his heart beat and the rattle of leaves that could have hid a sign of something, he waited until he felt it was the right moment, then scrambled over the ridge.

The drop wasn't long, he tucked and rolled as he landed in the dirt collected at the bottom, and as soon as he could got back on his feet and ran. He looked once over his shoulder back to where he'd been, and saw his fears confirmed by a huge, dark silhouette with its claws dug into the edge of the cliff, watching him. As Quinn continued running, he realized he'd thought seeing what it was and knowing it would make him fear it less. In this case, it didn't.

"All hands to battle stations!" roared the Shipmaster over the SHIPCOM. Cor needed no such urging.

He'd been ordered to guard the prison blocks, having just concluded his exchange of information with the Huragok, but he'd abandoned his post. They weren't coming here for the prisoners. They wanted their AI back, and Cor was personally more than willing to let them have them. The Shipmaster, though, had posted a number of Sangheili and a Mga'lekgolo pair in the particular chamber, and plenty of security teams between.

Cor went for the security control room. He needed access to the monitoring cameras. If 'Moramee was on one of those vessels and made it aboard, Cor would be first to respond to it. If not, the demons that must have also been dispatched would make a good consolation.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 02:20, July 24, 2011 (UTC)

37
Eoj 'Labasee had failed.

A swarm of Sentinels had overpowered them, killed 'Thaedee, and stolen their Luminary. The Ultra sat aboard the Glorious Ascendance, silently scolding himself.

A plasma rifle fell into the Elite's lap. 'Labasee looked up to see his friend Iun 'Atamee looking at him.

He tossed the gun aside. "Leave me be, brother. I am a disgrace."

"I shall not," 'Atamee snorted. "Not when there is a Luminary to find."

A.O.A. ~ Semper Fi, Do or Die.

38
Juliet silently held on to Ryder's arm throughout the entire ride. Riley looked back to the group, and grinned upon discovering of this. Juliet wasn't really bad, but merely a woman whom had made her share of mistakes in the past. Riley couldn't help but to wonder about the whereabouts of Gorka and the rest of his troop. just as Riley snapped back to reality, his eyes had already caught on to Ryder, who merely gave him a discrete "thumbs-up".

In the midst of the longsword, Matt, Tron and Ender attempted to calculate their odds of survival. "My theory is that we'll make on to the ship, and someone's gonna either join up with us or someone here is going to die." Ender nodded, attempting to identify Matt's reasoning. Compared to Ender, Matt was a huge, hulking beast. Never-the-less, he was a huge, hulking beast with a brain. One of the reasons that Spartan-IIs were always refreshing allies in battle. Tron turned to Matt and stood silently. Matt nodded, "Good observation, Tron."

Ender was confused, with so many things running through his head. First, Ryder, the man who himself said he'd never fall in love, has fallen in love. Second, the floating eyeball things were actually allies of the humans! Apparently, this had always been so. Turok was also a mystery, being the Elite who seemly joined up with Ryder and Matt at the beginning of their last venture, an event that he was still quite unclear to him. Lastly, Matt being able to "hear" silent AI? Ender was lost.

"Oh, right, you can't hear Tron!" Matt chuckled. "He said there would be a ninety-percent chance we'd never make to the Covenant ship with the average marine pilot. It a good thing that he had practice!" Matt said with a smile. "Hey Ender, you know that Morales is a Spartan-I?"

Ender nearly jumped up with excitement. "Morales is a Spartan-I? That's incredible! Who told you that?" Ender asked with excitement. Matt smile widened. "Morales himself."

"That's awesome!" Ender exclaimed, waiting for the real action to start. An abrupt, temporary gravitational tug reminded him that the real action had already begun.

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 12:44, July 27, 2011 (UTC) with assistance from Pikapi

39
The Longsword instinctively jerked sideways, evading yet another suicidal seraph. Riley's VISR bursted with numerous streaks, markers, and beacons. The conflicting colors were almost blinding, and the action got just a bit to intense for a Spartan of his caliber. Then suddenly, obscuring his view, he could make out the Oracle's slim, attractive figure and its exalted expression. Her arms were outstretched, pouring all of the data than any pilot or gunner could ever use out before his very eyes. Just as Riley felt as though he was about to overload, he shut his eyes, and attempted to flush all of the unnecessary adrenaline. "I only want the basics, Oracle. At a pace that I'll find convenient." Riley stated calmly. He was discovering just how stubborn this new AI really was. Could this be one of those disorienting "AI moments" that he had heard so much about.

"Fine." she stated, coldly. Riley opened his eyes to a rather confused Morales. "You alright there, pal?" Morales asked nervously. "Never better." Riley responded, returning to his normal self, reluctantly opening his eyes to one large red marker, head on, growing at a slow but steady pace. Riley leapt from his seat. "Everybody up!" he exclaimed, sounding more like a drill sergeant than ever before. "Target's directly ahead!" Riley turned back to the glass again, this time to find just what he was looking for. A countdown timer. Riley ripped his helmet from his head. "Thirty-three seconds to impact!" Riley continued. The rear-end of the Longsword slowly began to unlatch, and Morales pushed himself from his seat. "Rapid decompression in five!"

Matt held his head down, his hands clasped tightly

"Four!"

Ryder now held Juliet, not for protection, but to offer it.

"Three!"

Miranda and Randy turned to each other, acknowledging that they were prepared.

"Two!"

Riley repositioned his helmet upon his head. As soon as the helmet attached, the VISR flickered with the image of the Oracle. "Good luck." the Oracle stated, calmly. Riley was stunned. This was the first kind gesture that the AI had made towards him yet.

"You forgetting something?" Ryder transmitted to Riley. Riley was even more stunned.

The rear door didn't open slowly, but immediately ejected into space. A feature enabled by Riley himself prior to the mission, in order to suit the immediate pull of rapid decompression. As to be expected the crew of the longsword were yanked from its confines, directly into the vacuum. Riley held onto his chair, ensuring the safety of each marine before exiting the vessel himself. By this point, the vessel was almost exhausted of air, and Riley used the little bit of force that he could to swan dive out of the back of the Longsword.

The nearest banshee purposely tore through one wave of exiting marines, only to have both of its stabilizers removed in one swift movement by Matt, who was pushed meters back as a result of the applied force. The Longsword crashed, and the explosion swept Riley even further outwards than Matt. Even more oxygen poured out from the atmosphere of the crash site, located right at the head of the enemy craft. The hull was compromised, and the exposed occupants were apparently lifeless. Riley knew from experience that there would be more to it than that. If the team was to have any hope in the assault, they would have to make their way to a safe zone before the hull breach was resolved by quarantining the exposed corridors. If he knew the Covenant, they would also have a team of Elite rangers on their tail in no time. Riley grabbed the closest marines, and tried to swim into the burning crash site.--   — Christopher Costello    Talk    Contribs    Community    Wednesday, August 28 2024 (PST) 18:04, July 28, 2011 (UTC)

40
In another section of the Patient Devotion, strike team China had run into a snag, in the form of a Covenant blast door. The door had slammed down the second Luc and the rest of the team had boarded, curteosy of one of the cruiser's many hangars. The team had managed to disembark from the pair of dropships, only to be faced with hordes of Covenant troops, obviously not happy with their uninvited guests.

"Sierra, how much longer!" gunnery seargent Blake asked, loading a fresh clip into his Ma5B. "Hold on, this isn't somthing you wanna rush." Luc calmly explained, his sheilds flaring for possibly the tenth time, as he planted the final charge on the center of the unyeilding door. Lobbing a frag grenade into a cluster of Jackals, Blake turned to face him, smirking once he heard the telltale boom and the dying cries of several Kig-yar. "By the way, what happened to your arm?" one curious medic asked, working the pump on his m90 shotgun. "Er...doors." Luc explained, his answer only leaving the two Marines more confused. Typing in the final arming code, he twisted the handle, and nodded to them. "Charges are primed, hit the deck!" he shouted, the three men diving to the floor, just in time to avoid the blast of three shaped charges detonating. Once the initial shock wore off, the besiged strike team clambered through the large, smoldering hole made in the door, the Sentinels accompanying them covering their rear and picking off the remaining hostiles in the hangar with their beam weaponry. "Where to now?" Luc asked, lifting his own Ma5 from his back, as the team rushed down a purple corridor, startling several Grunts before they fell in a hail of bullets. "We have to link up with India and advance on the bridge." Gunny Blake replied, getting a nod from the Spartan leading the way.

(I know this is a rather lacking post for someone who has been "absent" for a few weeks, but I just got back from an eye appointment, and dialated pupils are not the best thing to look at a computer screen through.) TheivingFan 20:30, July 28, 2011 (UTC)

41
Daybreak on the planet below could not have come soon enough. Quinn broke the treeline where forest gave way almost directly to open sand dunes. Before surveying what was out there, he spun around, gripping the hilt of his knife tightly. He spotted the creature that had been following him, hidden in the mid-morning shadows.

It had chased him all the way down the mountain. Even downhill, it was a great distance. The ODST placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath and waiting on it. But the shimmering eyes stayed where they were, watching him coyly. A dare.

Chances were slim he'd survive in the expanse of desert behind him, but to return to the forest was suicide. The beast was toying with him.

Quinn checked his canteen. Half-empty. The animal, which now he could make out as some sort of big cat, remained where it was and settled down to watch him. The trooper gave up. Turning out into the desert, Quinn chose a direction and started putting distance between him and whatever this thing was.

Cor's mandibles curled in frustration. He smashed his fist on the console, making the unggoy next to him quiver in fear. Where was the heretic? There was no sign of him on any of the monitors. The sangheili checked his combat harness' systems again. Active camouflage was ready, as were his wrist daggers. His swords were at his sides, but he didn't plan on using them. And as a sangheili strike team member, his plasma repeater was already recharged.

He left the security station, intending to confront the lone demon and his team. The demon would know, and once Cor had his claws on it, it would tell him where 'Moram was.

42
"Almost there, Sierra!" Blake reported, checking the waypoint marker displayed on his eyepiece. Strike team China had formed into two loose columns, each Marine responsible for a small section of the corridor to watch. "I copy,..but, doesn't it seem strange, sir?". Blake shot a glance over at Xeno's golden visor for a moment, signalling for him to elaborate. "Well, a few minutes ago we were neck deep in contacts,then out of nowhere, they seemed to have thinned out." he continued, taking his cybernetic arm off of the grip of his assault rifle, and making a few motions. "Ah, now I see your reasoning, an it is rather-" Blake started, but was cut off as Xeno gave a shout, and shoved the Gunnery Sergeant out of the way of a swinging plasma blade, barely avoiding the attack himself. The energy blade, exposed by the rapid movement, faded back into invisibility, leaving the team of Marines and one Spartan guessing. "Go on, I can take care of this guy." Xeno assured the team, turning to face a shimmer he saw out of the corner of his eye. Figuring that their attacker was after the team, and not him alone, Xeno opened fire, using the Assault rifle's inherent inaccuracy to try and spread his shots, so he could get at least one bullet to cause the Elite's shielding to flare up.

TheivingFan 22:22, July 29, 2011 (UTC)

43
"Admiral, we have those reports you wanted," said an aid as he handed a datapad to Torkamentov, who was striding down the hall toward his room. "Thank you," replied Torkamentov, and he began reading the reports on the pad. What he saw made him grimace. They were uncomfortably low on missile armaments, at least of the nuclear variety. He would have to look into getting some more. Maybe their new allies could make them some, although he extremely doubted that.

He sighed, and was about to enter his room when the comm activated. "What is it?" snapped Torkamentov. "We have a situation." "All right," sighed Torkamentov, "I'll be right there." He pulled out a bottle of pills, took one out, and popped it into his mouth. Swallowing the pill, he shook the bottle, and was dismayed to see that it was already two-thirds of the way empty. He put the bottle back into his pocket, and made his way back to the bridge. Entering, he said, "So what is it?"

The squad advanced across the landscape in scattered formation. The land they were crossing was desert merging into mountains. This was where they had last detected "Private Quinn's" broadcast. Clyde, looking ahead, thought he saw a moving dot on the horizon. It seemed to be advancing into the desert. Clyde turned on his radio and said, " This is Denver Four, calling any UNSC personnel in the area. Is anybody there besides my comrades?" He waited for a reply as they continued onwards. --Azecreth 17:55, July 31, 2011 (UTC)

44
In the dry air the system's sun beat down on Quinn as he stumbled through the sand. His suit's temperature regulation had failed, making him rely partly on his internal oxygen supply. His suit's black finish wasn't helping. Even the wind wasn't enough to cool him, but it blew up plenty enough sand to obscure his vision. He was trying to conserve what little water he had, but now he thought he should have taken his chances against the predator. By now, it might be too late to turn back, and he wasn't sure what direction that was in because his HUD compass was malfunctioning.

When his radio sparked, for a moment he thought he was hallucinating. "This is Denver Four, calling any UNSC personnel in the area. Is anybody there besides my comrades?"

Panting as he crested another dune, he hit his own com. "Denver Four, Private Eirikur Quinn, here. I'm headed . . . west I think, into the- "

He was cut off as the sand gave way beneath him, and he tumbled down the slope. After he came to a rest, he lay there devoid of energy, with the wind burying the tips of his fingers. Quinn remembered the tunnel under Hope, how the ceiling had collapsed and buried him once, and how it was happening again. This was as good as any place to die. Grave taken care of, in the shade. . . shade.

Something was blocking out the sun. Quinn turned his head enough to see a dark shape, a single spire like a shark's fin, darkening its little piece of the sky. He didn't know what it was, but it offered him some blind hope. It was all he needed to push himself up, and stumble on towards it as long as he could.

Lead sprayed from the human's assault rifle. Cor 'Kedaree was familiar with their nature, they shot high at head level. Cor ducked to avoid the rounds, sometimes the trick worked. Today it didn't. His stealth harness' slim shielding caught the hits and flared electric blue. As Xeno spotted him, he trained the weapon on the Elite, but Cor was far too fast. He ignited his wristblade and cleaved the weapon in half, then grabbed him by his neck and lifted him above the deck.

Cor snarled at the human, then cast it aside and chased after the others. If he was lucky, the unggoy ahead would slow them down and sow enough confusion for him to get a shot at the demon.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 21:23, July 31, 2011 (UTC)

45
Riley's shields flickered as he attempted to push into the ship through a horde of sangheili rangers. In an instand, Riley's shields were out, and he needed cover. Riley quickly reached down, and gripped onto on of the longsword's dismembered wings. Using his strength, combined with the ease of zero gravity, Riley heaved the fin to his level, before wedging it a hard as he could into the walls before him, trapping the rangers inside, and him out.

"Quickly soldier." Riley's AI stated. "We don't want to get stuck out here in space with them, do we?"

Riley acknowledged the Oracle with the nod of his head. "This is Riley. Is everyone okay?" Riley asked, although he was almost certain that their were a few deaths.

Matt sighed through the transmitter. "Two dead. I have Turok with me, and uh... Miranda, Randy, Juliet, and Morales. You have a way in?"

"I was just about to ask you that..." Riley replied. Riley and Matt turned to Ryder, who sharply kicked an punched a weak-spot in the hull inwards. "Got it." he said, preparing to move in. Ryder was caught of guard by a sangheili carcass, which he found floating out from the corridor. Matt and Riley chuckled.

46
"Oh dear," said 086 Awakened Follower.

Korea Team's insertion had not gone well at all. They had successfully infiltrated the Covenant Ships Hanger when they encountered extremely heavy resistance.

Follower through one of his Sentinel's first-person cameras, as it burned a small pack of unggoy, causing the little aliens to ignite and explode in a shower of blue gore.

The humans were sticking to their Pelicans, using the craft for cover.

"Let em have it!" Follower heard Moore shout. The ODST's popped out of cover and opened fire simultaneously showering the purple bulkheads with blue and purple blood, as casualties mounted.--TehSpartan 15:09, August 4, 2011 (UTC)

47
As Private Quinn's return broadcast came over the radio, Clyde looked at his radar. "I think I got him, sir," he said. "Yeah, I see him to. And it looks like he's got something on his tail," said the sergeant. "Doubletime marines. Looks like it's going to be a race. We need to get to the Private before that thing does, and right now it's gaining on him faster than we are." With that, the squad began running toward Quinn's beacon on the radar. As they ran, Clyde checked that the safety was off on his weapon. It looked like they would be in for a fight.

Torkamentov paced forward to look at the view screen. "What's the problem," he asked. "The strike teams are encountering heavier resistance than expected," said the crewman. "Well, how exactly was that a surprise. We are trying to board an enemy vessel, after all," said Torkamentov angrily. "Fine then. We need something to distract them, and I'm going to give it to them." he said snappily. He sat down in the captain's chair. "Contact the fleet. Tell them to move and engage the Covenant fleet, in standard formation Delta. That'll give them something to think about." He sat down and watched as the fleet moved to attack. --Azecreth 21:58, August 4, 2011 (UTC)

48
Standing at Torkamentov's side was Robert, who was visibly concerned about the Admiral's decision. "Are you sure that's a wise move, sir? Most of the ships in the fleet have reported either near depleted, or empty nuclear arsenals. That only leaves the MAC guns as a viable weapon, and we both know how maneuverable Covie ships are." He carefully said, looking out the triple thick plexiglass window that surrounded three sides of the bridge, watching the friendly ships form up as ordered. "At any rate, the Grapes has some semblance of combat readiness now. All three MAC guns have been locked in forward positions, allowing the emergency targeting computers to aim properly. All Archer pods are full, and ready to fire." He added.

Luc was about to throw a punch, but froze in surprise. The Elite was... running away? His head turned to look at the direction its faint shimmer was traveling in, and shook his head. It was apparently going after the marines! Dropping the now useless rifle, he gave chase. TheivingFan 19:54, August 5, 2011 (UTC)

49
"This is ENDEAVOR of fireteam Japan," Riley began, careful not announce any names that the Covenant would have probably learned to identify by this point. Even so, he didn't doubt that the Covenant were aware that it was the notorious Spartans invading their battlecruiser. And of course, there was little that they could do to resolve the problem other than to sends hordes of elites and jackals after them. "Respond if your a team who's ready to proceed and coordinate." Riley concluded.

"Yeah, or if your a team who's utterly failed, and needs some others teams who are ready to coordinate and proceed to rescue them." Ryder added. "Hey!" Riley snapped back. "Mic's off." Ryder claimed, smiling beneath his visor. "Korea here," Moore responded. "Good," Riley responded. "And what about China?"

A brief minute's pause. "I don't have a clue. They checked in, like... once?" Moore responded. "Okay..." Riley responded, before raising the mic again. "I'm looking for a certain somebody by the name of SKYWALKER?"

No response.

"What if I told you that you were my only hope?"

More static, and suddenly: "Yeah, I'm here, can you quit it with the Star Wars jokes?" Luc responded, reluctantly. "You've got it. What's been holding you up?" Riley replied.

Luc cleared his throat. His breaths were paced and heavy, and it was apparent that he was sprinting. "Um, I think we have the Elite that took our AI... It's acting all curious, plus it's wearing some weird combat harness. Anyways, we are pretty far from the bridge, think you can handle it?"

"Sure." Riley responded. "We're actually pretty close. Would have been nice to have planned this ahead of time before we had made such an entrance."

"Yeah, well shit happens. If we can make it also, we will." Luc responded.

"Can I have your location?" Riley asked.

In an instant, the Oracle in Riley's VISR was displaying a basic layout of the ship, with a red beacon moving in the opposite direction, around the lower-half of the vessel.

"Well you are heading in the opposite direction..." Riley stated. Luc just sighed.

"Okay, ENDEAVOR out." Just as Riley finished his sentence, a file of elite and kig-yar rangers began pouring out from the shield-door a good seven meters ahead. Upon exiting the barrier, the aliens begun to float. In seconds, each of them had activated their jump-jet equipment, and the team was dodging rangers and plasma alike. --

50
Follower looked on as a the Covenant were slowly pushed back. A black-armored Elite charged the ODST's position, Energy Sword drawn. He swung and decapitated the ODST, before quickly impaling another. Moore and the ODST named Shouji brought the monster down with several long bursts from their Assault Rifles.

Seeing the last Elite fall, the Grunts and Jackals remaining broke rank and fled down the long corridors of the ship. His Sentinels picked off the stragglers.

Moore quickly took count of the men he had remaining. Of the original 30 men 20 were still combat ready.

"Grant, McDowel, Lawson, Taylor, and Kazalov," he motioned to the selected soldiers. "You five stay behind with the flyboys and make sure the Covies don't toast our ride out of here."

"I shall leave some Sentinels to assist," Follower added.

"The rest of you with me," Moore said to the remaining fifteen men.

The group of ODST's and Sentinels made there way down the corridors towards the bridge when suddenly they came face to split-jawed face with an Elite Major Domo leading a small lance of Grunts. Follower and his Sentinels fired at the exact same time. In seconds, the Elite was down.

The Grunts fled screaming but were taken down by short bursts from the ODST's.

"That was way to easy," laughed an ODST.

Follower agreed.--TehSpartan 14:42, August 6, 2011 (UTC)

51

 * (Therider's original post was redacted, due to extreme unrealistic-ness and the moving of Turok, which could not be done without major tweaks to pre-established fact)

Turok sprinted up to the bridge, his hands held fast to an energy sword that he had scavenged from a dead sangheili. They had made their way deep into the bulbous head of the vessel from the "neck", where they had crash landed. Riley ran ahead of the rest of the team, ensuring that every turn that they had made was safe. By this point, the team had made their way down a long, horizontal corridor with numerous alcoves located periodically at it's sides. Suddenly, the purple doors at the end of the hall begun to unlatch and slide apart. Two special operations officers sprinted out, side by side.

Riley tried not to exert any noise as he hugged the wall of the interior of the nearest cavity. Riley looked to the cell opposite of him, and Turok silently nodded, ready to eject the plasma from his energy sword at any moment. One elite stopped in his tracks, before looking around curiously, as though he had sensed something. The other continued onwards, right past the stealthy group.

"You gonna attack?" whispered Ryder into the transmitter. Riley silently shook his head, before replying: "No, I think that the one in the back's got a grenade launcher..." Ryder peered behind the wall when he was certain that the elite was facing in the other direction. In fact, the elite was wielding a concussion rifle, and was surveying the first column of alcoves. "That elite's good. He knows that we're here." Ryder responded. "Just our luck," Matt stated sarcastically. The elite's shield's begun to glow a dark purple, and then the elite slowly became invisible. "Why did he turn purple?" Matt asked. "Overshields." Turok replied crisply. Matt was puzzled. It soon occurred to the Spartans that Turok wasn't responding to his query, as he did not have a transmitter. In a second, Turok also began to glow a deep purple. Without a word, Turok headed out from the alcove as though he had some business being hidden there, with his arms crossed over his chest to conceal his engraved Mark of Shame. The special operations sangheili eyed him curiously. Riley knew what he was doing.

"Plasma circuits." Turok stated tiredly, starring at the wall to the left and shrugging his shoulders. "Ah," the officer replied, deactivating its camouflage and continuing down the hall without a second glance. As the officer exited through the door on the opposite end of the hall, it's overshields also vanished. As soon as the doors closed, the team sprawled back out into the open, exhaustedly. Riley patted Turok on the back, and the team continued onward towards the bridge. Ryder tossed Turok a sniper rifle. "Overshields can only mean one thing, Spartans..." Turok began. "a Huragok." --

52
As soon as the comm line closed, Luc turned his full attention to the situation at hand: one pissed off spec-ops Elite that would slaughter Team China if given the chance. He wasn't about to let that happen, and grinned as he saw his chance. A security door leading to some room branching-off from the main hall, with the sliding doors struggling to close on the carcass of a dead Brute. Sprinting up alongside the faint shimmer, he half-dived and shoved the Elite into the room, the opening wide enough to allow the now visible Cor to sail through. Drawing his M6/G pistol, he stepped into the room. By the looks of thing, he was now inside of the vessels engineering section. He idly kicked out the Brute corpse that was holding the doors open and the doors immediately slammed shut, trapping both him and Cor in the room.

TheivingFan 19:20, August 7, 2011 (UTC)

53
Luc heard human screams and sizzling plasma bombard the doorway just as it automatically shut behind him. He was now separated from his team, and could only wish them the best of luck. At first he thought that he would be the hero separating his men from the Elite, but now he could see otherwise. Luc quickly scanned the room in a desperate attempt to identify any possible tactical advantages that he could use. His surroundings were constantly in motion. The deck was huge, and contained hundreds of intersecting pipes. Some large, some small. In fact, all of the platforms and consoles in the entire room were only supported by a mere few of these pipes. All containing what appeared to be a blue, illuminated plasma. Their constant, correlated pulsing almost made him queasy. The floor, a good twenty five-meters below, the "floor" was a virtual oven. It had suddenly occurred to him that they were inside of the ship's hydraulics reactor. This was a recipe for disaster.

His opponent seemed to catch onto this, emitting a hearty, frightening laugh. Lucas stood up straight, and so did the Elite who immediately activated his sword. The two opponents paced towards each other, waiting for the other to make the first strike. In only seconds, Cor lunged at Lucas with the sword. Lucas' sidesteped, and the beam carved into the purple wall. Sparks flew, and Cor growled. Lucas attempted to counter while Cor was fastened to the wall, but the Elite detached his sword and stepped back as Luc threw punches. Cor attempted to upperut Luc in the process. Catching him off-guard, Luc's hand collided with the base of the sword. Cor pushed heavily upon Lucas' barricading arms. Luc responded by swiftly shifting his position, and letting his hands "slip" onto the base of the sword. Now Luc and Cor both grasped the sword, and attempted to overpower the enemy with their strength. To Cor's surprise, Lucas was exerting all of his strength in his effort. Cor took advantage of this, kicking Lucas in the stomach in the midst of the struggle. Now Lucas was on the ground, and Cor advanced towards him with the energy sword. Cor crushed the plasma blade into the platform, nearly slicing him in half. Luckily, Luc rolled out of the way. Cor didn't allow him time to get back to his feet, and his futile attempts to incapacitate Luc were damaging the platform. Luc wasn't even armed, and it was hardly a fair fight at this point. Lucas pulled the nearest pipe out from the wall, preventing the next energy sword-lunge with it, and then batting him with it as though it was a crowbar. All of the while, its superheated contents poured out from it. Cor recoiled, and Lucas climbed to his feet in satisfaction. It took him a moment to realize that he did not retreat from pain, but he did so in horror. The platform began to tilt, and the combatants slipped over, followed by an avalanche of plasma. Cor reached out for the platform's rim, using it to swing to a distant platform. Lucas attempted to to the same, only gripping yet another pipeline, which collapsed after he released it. Cor allowed Luc time to climb to his feet, as two new sangheili dropped onto the platform from behind.

The team came to a halt as they reached the another set of doors that wouldn't budge. "Oracle, position please." A green dot appeared on Riley's VISR, directly over what appeared to be the bridge's representation. "Okay team," Riley said, standing back. "This is probably it." Matt stepped forward. "Want me to open it?" he asked. Riley shook his head in disapproval. "Does the word 'stealth' mean anything to you?" he responded sarcastically. "Assassinations." Ryder replied humorously. "We need to find an entrance and get this over with quickly. If the AI aren't here, I don't know who'll have them." "Well Lucas is after that Elite..." Matt replied. "True. okay, I need one of us to find an entrance. An air vent or something would really come in handy right about now." "Yeah, if only this wasn't a Covenant vessel." Miranda added.

"Maybe Turok the purple dinosaur has some suggestions." Ryder added humorously. Indeed, Turok's armor was glowing a brighter purple than ever. "I've bet they have quite a few Huragok on the bridge." Turok responded, apparently still preoccupied with the appearance of overshields. "Those Huragok are equipped with the overshield generators. It's most likely a precautionary measure. If we are to take the crew, we should take them out first." Riley nodded. "Good idea, Turok. Team, let's spread out."

54
It has been a long time since Dark Enlightenment was in a physical form. But here it was, flying out of a construction facility. Not the best form but it would do for now. Now, did it make his new form a male or female?

"Hello, I am DE-722 Dark Enlightenment" he whispered to himself. Dark Enlightenment began to laugh at his automatic introduction to himself. So he was a male now? It didn't matter much though. Anyway, he was in the form of a Monitor, although his new mentality still retained its original programming. Before he made any snap decisions, Dark Enlightenment had to find the Reclaimers; he needed them to activate what he commanded, what his makers gave him before he came to the Zenith Complex. Accessing the teleportation grid, he found the UNSC Grapes of Wrath, a primitive vessel which seemed to be the flagship of the human fleet. He selected the destination; the bridge. Within a flash, he arrived.

"Hello humans. I am 722 Dark Enlightenment, advanced cyber-warfare specialist and a tool of my creators." He seemed to surprise them with his unexpected entrance. The most decorated serviceman on the bridge slowly turned around and walked up to him. Dark Enlightenment could make out his whispering: "Great, another lightbulb." to another bridge officer under his breath.

"I'm Commodore Robert Garcia, commanding officer of the UNSC Grapes of Wrath." Garcia began. "Are you here on behalf of your apparent leader, Awakened Follower or whatever his name is?"

-- Liberal Communist Libertarian Conservative Guy  Talk to the supporter of Communism and Capitalism  01:02, August 9, 2011 (UTC)

55
Erik woke up slowly, and only then realized he'd gone out at all. He was laying flat on his back, and staring up into a woman's face. She was smiling warmly, her chestnut hair cut shorter than regulation and tied into a stunted braid on each side of the back of her head. One of her eyebrows raised, widening one of her round, brown eyes as she said, "Ray, he's waking up."

As Quinn groaned and struggled to sit up, he heard a set of bootsteps approaching, and felt the woman's hands steady him. He noted by feeling that she had on an ODST's ballistic gloves. Quinn's helmet was missing, and he looked around. He was inside. The room's walls were made of a blue-gray metal, with the panels fitting together in strange ways to form support columns and struts, while there seemed to be ramps eliminating the corners where floors would meet walls.

"Man, when the desert dragged you in, I didn't think you'd make it." A male voice said, half laughing. He clapped Quinn on the shoulder, and Erik was able to get a good look at the other shock trooper. Ray, he guessed, had dark hair and a complexion he thought might be Middle Eastern. Half his mouth was curled up in a grin, but what really perked Erik up was the canteen he held out. Seeing it made him realize exactly how thirsty he was, and he downed the whole thing before even listening to whatever he had to say.

"Where am I?" Quinn asked, gasping in air to follow the water.

Ray shrugged. "Beats the living hell outta me. But locally, you're inside an alien ruin in the middle of a desert on an uncharted planet."

Quinn stared at him uncomprehendingly. The woman, like Ray, had the ODST's ballistic leggings on, but had shed the torso and arm plates except the gloves in this heat, wearing the sleeveless white shirt underneath. "You came down with heat exposure by the time we spotted you. We dragged you inside, you've been out about a half-hour. Doesn't seem like there'll be any permanent damage. I'm Jill."

"Erik." he responded, shaking hands with the two of them. "There was something after me, what was - ?"

"We've been calling them jungle cats." Ray said, while Quinn noticed his Corporal's chevrons. "We've seen them around, but usually they don't come this far into the desert. When it saw us pick you up, it turned back for the mountains. They're pretty fierce when they're surprised."

Private Jillian Cooper, next to him, put a hand to her earpiece and said, "Hey, Morita, the guy you dragged in is up."

Another ODST, at the far end of a long hall, poked his head out. He was dressed like the others, with his dog tags and the com pack over his shoulders. Showing a thumbs up, the PFC walked back around the corner.

Jillian pulled Quinn's helmet from behind her. "You probably won't want to wear it out here, but it's yours all the same. We have a water source in the lower halls, though you'll need your VISR down there. After you get a wash and some more to drink, we'll take you to see the doc."

"A medic?" Quinn asked.

She shook her head. "Doctor Robert Hallmay."

Cor 'Kedaree tightened his mandibles, angered that he'd somehow missed the demon. It must have happened when the marine fired on him, and then ran past whatever position it had taken up. In any case, he now found himself sealed off from the outside, just he and it.

The engineering sections were one of the largest compartments on a ship of this class, but due to the large amount of tubing required for fuel and plasma injection lines, also the most crowded. It provided an excellent hunting ground for the Sangheili stealth officer.

Plasma, vented from a severed line, caused heat to interfere with his active camouflage systems, but he did not need them. His swords would be somewhat unstable, but not beyond usefulness. As Luc stood, he did not see the two additional Sangheili warriors behind him. Cor waited for him to stand before asking, "Where is the heretic?"

Luc's only response was to draw a knife, the silent visor fixed on the sword-wielding Elite. Cor laughed, then deactivated and clipped his weapons to his sides. Raising his arms, he let his wrist blades spring forth, their curved blue outlines hazy in the heat. Then Daryyk and Nota attacked. Luc was surprised, but moved quickly. Ducking under Daryyk's swing with his concussion launcher, he grabbed the Sangheili's wrist and used it to get in the way of Nota's plasma rifle, eliminating his clear shot.

Luc's MJOLNIR Armor gave Daryyk a strong push, and the two stumbled back together as the demon turned back to Cor. They advanced to less than a meter from each other before attempting to cut each other to pieces with the short blades. The knife would never have survived contact with the energy blades, so there was no contact between the weapons, only slash and counter-slash at one anothers' bodies.

Noting the other fighters recover behind him, Luc fell under one of Cor's blows and drove the knife through his forward hoof, pinning him to the deck. While Cor roared in anguish, Luc rolled under three red concussion rifle shots. The red-orange spheres gave him a second shadow, the first coming from the rapidly-growing lake of liquid plasma burning through the deck below and closer to the reactor itself.

Luc came up right next to Daryyk, and while the Ossoona was a skilled swordsman, Luc was better with unarmed combat and tripped him, sending the Elite stumbling back into the wall. A plasma rifle came up next to his head, but even as it did his hand was continuing into another motion. A half second after Luc's hand swatted his wrist, Nota fired sending blue flame past the demon's head, the light burning in the reflection on Luc's visor. Then he twisted and kicked, his armored boot cracking ribs in Nota's midsection and sending him flying into open air, over the edge of their platform.

Nota slammed against a latticework of tubes, the back of his combat harness denting and he hung there limply for an instant. Then he dropped, never uttering so much as a scream in the second it took for his body to be vaporized by the pool of plasma below. Blue flames licked up from its surface, while Luc stared down at the thin layer of ash that was rapidly burning away, all that was left of Nota 'Zehamee.

Luc ducked as he heard the knife thrown, which sailed over him, and looked at Cor, his hoof pouring blood. Before they could again lock in combat, the platform jolted, forcing both of them to cling to the deck. The room was falling apart, it was suddenly apparent to them. Luc took a last look at the assassin, then jumped off the platform and began climbing a series of pipes up, towards an exit farther from the burning reactor.

Cor watched him for a moment, but with the plasma and concussion rifles gone, could not have shot him down if he'd wanted to. He went to assist the stunned Daryyk, and escape this inferno to find the demons and the heretic another day, or perhaps later upon this one.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 06:54, August 9, 2011 (UTC)

The AI are in a separate chamber, near the bridge and guarded by a Hunter pair and several well-equipped Elite rangers. Time is of the essence, however, that plasma isn't going to agree with the ship's stomach.

56
Turok finished his skilled incision through the ceiling, before leaping from the top of two stacked Covenant crates. "What we have above out heads is similar to your shipboard oxygen ventilation systems, in size. It's a maintenance corridor, and if we head forward a few meters, I am certain that we can make quite an entrance." he elaborated. "Good work, Turok. I call the shipmaster." Ryder added, before climbing into the hole in the wall, followed by Riley. In seconds, Riley inched back to the gate in which they had entered, whispering: "Marines, you wait here with Matt and Turok. We have a plan, guys. Turok, I want you to roll the bomb down the corridor when you get it." Randy gulped when he heard that a "bomb" was involved. "We'll have two Elite guards coming out to investigate. Matt, Turok, take 'em out silently." Turok nodded, and Riley continued trough the vent. Once overhead, Ryder carefully sliped the purple maintenance gate into the space continuing onward, and peered through the hole. Elite rangers guarded the locked entrance, energy staves in hand. The apparent shipmaster, a sangheili general, came to a halt. Ironically, right before them, staring into the bridge's primary viewscreen. A Huragok moaned, hovering over the group, but none of the bridge crew payed it any notice. "This is it." Ryder said excitedly, as the Huragok condensed it's form, fitting into the vent. Ryder grabbed it and stabbed the Engineer's rigged shell, rolling it out through the vent before it begun to beep. Ryder silently dropped from the ceiling, raising his combat knife, with a sneer on his face. Riley dropped down behind him, and Ryder turned around awaiting orders. The rigged Engineer went off in the distance, the sound echoing as though it was merely a light thump. The guards immediately rushed from the room, Turok and Matt jumping out as expected, in perfect coordination. Ryder leapt on the shipmaster's back and jabbed his blade into it's neck. He tried to jab the blade into it's neck, but every time he attempted for the blade to impact, the purple overshields would blare, and the knife would recoil. The sangheili slowly begun to turn, noticing the added weight, and Ryder trembled, attempting to stab it at an even greater rate, but to no avail. The shipmaster tossed Ryder off of it's back, and dazed on the floor, Ryder turned back to see Matt, Turok and the marines in close-range combat with the guardsmen. Ryder immediately jumped to his feet, his assault rifle blazing, when he came to realize just how many moaning Engineers were really in the chamber.--

57
"Give me one moment, I should be able to open this door." 086 Awakened Follower and Korea Team had just reached a locked door impeding their progress. The AI blasted a console on the side of the door with numerous energy beams, and finally, smoke could be seen raising from numerous crevices around the doorway.

"And there we go," said Follower.

The door opened revealing an Elite Zealot standing with his energy sword ignited. He lashed out impaling his blade through the skull of the lead ODST.

"AMBUSH!" roared a trooper. Follower fired his beam but the zealot nimbly dodged to the side sending the beam through the opposite wall.

The Covenant elites hiding inside the room sprung out, their plasma fire swiftly killing four more ODSTs.

"FALL BACK, FALL BACK!" Follower heard Moore shout.

He surmised that would be an intelligent maneuver.--TehSpartan 21:03, August 14, 2011 (UTC)

58
Torkamentov watched the battle as the UNSC fleet engaged the Covenant. His mind was racing as he figured out a plan to preserve the limited forces they had, but to still achieve victory. Suddenly, it popped into his head. He rose, and snapped his finger. He began issuing orders as Garcia looked on in increasing amazement at what Torkamentov planned to do. "Helm, accelerate us toward the ship with our AI's. Navigation, begin preparations for a slipspace jump. Increase the size of the field to incluude the enemy ship, and plot us a corse somewhere far from the main action. Weapons, aim for their engines, so they can't jump away from us. Comm, tell the fleet to break off once we have jumped."

Torkamentov nodded to himself. Garcia interjected, "Don't you tink we should warn the boarding parties what we're about to do?" Torkamentov shook his head. "If we warn them, then we may give the Covenant a chance to prepare. We have to keep this as much of a surprise as possible. They'll just have to manage by themselves." He turned away, and could feel Garcia still staring at him. But Torkamentov knew that he was only doing what had to be done. Actually, now that he stopped to think about it, Torkamentov noticed some weird things going on involving Garcia. But that would have to wait.

As he went back to observing the battle, he heard a sound behind him. Turning around, he saw that another spherical AI had materialized on the bridge. Muttering to himself, he said, "Not another one." The robot began talking to Garcia. "I'm Commodore Robert Garcia, commanding officer of the UNSC Grapes of Wrath." Garcia began. "Are you here on behalf of your apparent leader, Awakened Follower or whatever his name is?"

Angrily, Torkamentov shouldered into the conversation and said, "Hello. I'm Rear Admiral Nikolai Torkamentov. May I ask what you're doing on my ship?"

--Azecreth 01:09, August 16, 2011 (UTC)

59
Ryder kicked the last Engineer carcass out of his path as he headed towards the viewscreen. Riley and Matt had apparently made themselves at home, with Matt leaning over a control panel polishing his helmet visor, and Riley seated upon a Grunt's miniscule swiveling gravity chair. Ryder stopped a few feet before Riley, who just starred back waiting. "What do you suppose we do now, Riley? Your in charge of this operation, and we still don't have the AI." "Did you forget, we're just commandeering the bridge. I'm sure Turok and the marines will be back soon, and if not, I wouldn't doubt another one of our teams has already pinpointed their location. I'd say we wait for word from the other fireteams." Ryder sighed. "This is a time sensitive mission, especially considering that Garcia didn't bother informing many of the other captains. We don't even know how to work this thing. Hell, how long do you thing it'll take for one of our vessels to figure that our shields are down. After all, friendly fire can only be so friendly." The door slid open and Turok bolted through, followed by a team of apparently cautious marines. Matt leaned forward. "See, there they are. Hey Turok, got the AI? Turok?"

Turok ignored Matt, hugging the wall beside the entrance as his marines blindly fired down the corridor. "Oh shit." Ryder added, as Riley and Matt were speechless. The team could just make out a pair of gold-plated Hunters rounding the corner in that instance, with a wave of sangheili struggling to push by them and dash through the entrance while they still could. "Lock it, lock it!" Ryder bellowed as Turok furiously ran forward, grabbing the shipmaster's corpse. Ryder ran over and assisted Turok as he raced back toward the door with the lagging body. "Scan it, scan it NOW!" Ryder screamed, slamming the dead Elite's palm onto a sensor beside the entrance. Both hunters began charging their cannons, and desperate Elites daringly begun to crawl under their behemoth legs just to get through. A cyan line appeared on the touchscreen and steadily paced over each feature of the corpse's hand and back again. The hand's silhouette was now embedded into the pad, and the marker turned green. The doors slowly began to shut just as one Hunter's green rockets fired straight towards the door. Instantaneously appearing out of the corner of the scene, Riley watched as torrents of blue flames engulfed the charging Elites and even the Hunters. The reason for their rushing was apparent, but even so, none of the crew could comprehend what was occurring. Riley turned to Matt, silently mouthing the words: "Did you see that?", but apparently, Matt was to preoccupied starring at Ryder, who now dropped the corpse's arm in repulsion.

"Fuck, that was dramatic." Randy whispered in horror. Just as the team settled their nerves, a loud thump propelled Matt and the marines backwards in terror. This was followed by pounding and muffled screams, but even these died out eventually. One observant, but hopelessly burning Elite fell out from the same maintenance duct above the bridge, apparently having scorched the vent in the process. Matt shot it in the head with a shotgun in order to put it out of it's misery. The ringing in Riley's ears slowly faded into a rhythmical beating. Riley turned back to face the console, which displayed a similar layout of the ship to the one that his Oracle had been showing him, only the entire midsection and rear half was flashing red. In seconds, numerous other passaged were also going red, as though the ship was literally flowing with the fires. Only a few specific rooms remained clear, with one being the bridge.

Riley immediately opened a channel. "This is ENDEAVOR of Japan. Fireteams India, China, Korea, Singapore, do you read me? Do you read me?!" "This is Moore of Korea." Moore responded, apparently deciding that it was safe to use real names at this point. "Heavy casualties. Singapore's out, we tried meeting up with 'em and watched 'em all burn before our very eyes..." Moore continued. Riley would have asked about India, but no one had received any word from them from the start. "We knew we'd lose a few from the start, how are you holding up?" Riley responded. "You know, I'm pry only still here 'cause of that lightbulb, Follower." Riley nodded, happy to hear from the Centurion. "Okay then. We've secured the AI, can you head back to your pelicans?" "They're fried. They were targeted from the start. Landing in the hangars was a mistake."

As Riley stared at the console, his AI begun syncing the console display with his VISR. The Oracle was apparently busy scattering all sorts of waypoints, beacons, and warnings across the layout. "Just keep pushing forward Moore, take the ramp ahead one level down and then head right. You'll be in a deployment bay in no time, take a banshee or something. Now what's the with all of this fire?"

Moore blindly took Riley's advice, not bothering as much as to ask where he retrieved this intel. "A rupture in the ship's power source, I can assume. If only we knew this earlier, we'd by taking out these ships left and right." "It's my fault." another familiar voice began, grunting as though he was taking fire. "I took the fight to engineering." "I'm happy to hear your still alive, Luc. What do you mean? Who are you fighting?"

Static for a moment, and another gasp could be heard coming from another being. Riley could here combat. By this point, the entire team was huddled around Riley. Riley could hear Luc begin to clear his throat again. "The one that stole the Grapes' AI... and his friends. RAAAAGGHHHHH! ...I took one out. But I'm being overwhelmed. I'm heading to where I think I can find-" Static overwhelmed the transmission, presumably the effects of radiation. "It's almost like trying to make a phone call while the microwave is going." Riley thought to himself.

Morales tapped Riley on the back, but not in the "friendly gesture" way. "Riley, you might want to see this." Matt requested in a raspy voice. Riley looked up at the main viewscreen and watched the familiar figure of the Grapes of Wrath, as it slowly rotated towards the Patient Devotion. "What do you think that it is doing?" Miranda asked. Even Turok was awe-struck. Riley almost expected a loud thump as the gargantuan vessel ceased it's rotation. Time seemed to stop, and the world seemed to go silent as the Grape of Wrath's vessel-to-vessel stare-down commenced. Ryder slowly turned to the left, only to find Matt clinging to him. Without disturbing him, Ryder slowly heaved him off and turned back.

In an instant, the Grape's disappeared, and then the stars did the same. Riley almost thought the world to have become surreal, just as the light of the stars returned, only now reassembled. The dreadnaught also reappeared instantaneously, it's position identical, almost as though it had never even moved. Amongst other things, the space battlefield didn't reappear, which continued the mental confusion. Riley looked just below the horizon, and found himself gazing upon a curious word that wasn't there before.

60
As the red blip slowly came towards them, the three Spartans raised their weapons. The hallway was pitch black, though the air and gravity on the ship seemed to be functioning. Even with their enhanced vision, the Spartans could not see much. They kept their helmet-mounted flashlights off. Jax-007 took point, shotgun ready. The blip on his motion tracker had stopped.

As the Spartan stepped round a corner, there was a flurry of movement. His shotgun was sent spinning away as a knife pressed to his neck. Kane and Marco had moved too, and were pointing their weapons straight at his assailant, who appeared only to be armed with a pistol in addition to the knife.

The Spartan's headlights lit up, revealing their attacker. It was a Spartan.

"Release him!" Marco growled.

Jax felt the knife withdraw, and he turned round, drawing his pistol. The Spartan wore jet-black armour, with a spherical CQB Helmet. Kane tossed him his shotgun. He caught it and took aim. "Of all the places in the galaxy I could have ended up in, I had to be 'rescued' by you" It was a woman's voice; a familiar voice. Her visor depolarised, and the three Spartans lowered their weapons. Marco spoke first.

"Elena. They said you were dead."

Elena shrugged. "We did die, officially. They kept that information from Sigma-Alpha because you were being sent to the frontlines. We got sent straight to ONI."

To Jax, Kane and Marco, this was a revelation. After their training on Earth, all the secrecy, and the lies, they were the ones that had been deemed 'not good enough'. "How many of you survived augmentations?" Kane asked. Elena pressed several buttons on her TACPAD, and the lights came back on. She turned and began to walk away.

"Everyone survived. There were no casualties in the Sigma Project"

Elena kept walking, the others in tow. Eventually they came to an elevator. They crammed inside, and it began to rise towards the bridge. "So were the others-" Kane began. Elena tapped a finger to the lower part of her visor twice. "Shut up." They exited the lift and walked out onto the bridge of the Heavens Asunder. Elena removed her helmet, revealing black hair, over the regulation limit. "I'm sorry Kane, you'll need to ask me these questions another time, I'm on a mission here..."

Kane removed his helmet. "Rank?" he asked.

"Don't try it, Chief. Commander."

"Oh?"

"ONI likes to give promotions out to valuable assets."

Elena sat at the helm of the ship, typing into two separate consoles. The ship was powering up. Jax looked around. The other chairs looked as if they hadn't been touched for months. "Are you managing a ship this size on your own?". Elena kept typing for a few seconds until she responded. "Yep. No AI either. ONI gave me the coordinates". Kane walked over to what would have been the comm officer's station, and activated it. "I'm gonna send a message to the Day, let them know that we're going with you".

The typing stopped. Elena seemed almost offended. "You're going with me?" She looked round at the three Spartans. Their armour was scratched and dented; they had been fighting for some time without rest, and they were certainly not allowed to know all the details of her mission, but there was no use arguing. Rank or no, these Spartans were tagging along for this one.

"UNSC Bright New Day, this is Master Chief Petty Officer Kane-099. We are accompanying SPARTAN-071 on a classified mission. Sergeant Major Mack, you are in control of the ship. Wait 24 hours. If we aren't back by then, you have full permission to leave the system, over and out".

Kane deactivated the comms and joined the three others at the helm. "So, what now?" he asked. Elena switched screens. "Gotcha" the hissed. "I've locked on to a nearby Slipspace signature. If we follow it, we should find...something" Kane looked at her in disbelief. "You mean you have no idea where it leads, we're just going to follow it?"

Elena put her helmet on. The ship rumbled slightly as the FTL drive began to spin up. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

--Brodie-001

61
After a time with Cor carrying Daryyk's arm over his shoulder, Daryyk had regained consciousness and now helped Cor to move on with his wounded foot. In the chambers and hallways still controlled by Covenant, chaos had ensued as tremors rocked the ship. Grunts and Jackals ran beneath their feet, seemingly without direction. Daryyk dragged him into the security room, and began to assess the damage.

"The reactors have flooded many key compartments." Daryyk said, not taking his eyes from the console as Cor bandaged his hoof. The wound was regrettable, but not worth a suicide. He'd fight another day. "I believe the Patient Devotion is lost. However, most smaller craft were destroyed in their hangars."

Cor grunted as he pulled the bandage tight. "What of the human ships?"

"Less than a handful of dropships and fighters remain near us." Daryyk responded, peering over a navigational console. "Wait... one large ship is approaching fast, less than three lengths, it appears to be ramming us!"

Cor was alarmed as the deck quaked again, and Daryyk frantically looked about his monitors. Most had blanked out, then suddenly they reappeared. "We have... moved. A slipspace transition occurred. We're orbiting a planet, barely. The Devotion will soon enter its atmosphere. Or whatever is left of this ship."

Cor had been watching the internal monitors, when something caught his eye. Greens, blues, grays. . . and gold visors. And standing among the demons, Turok. Ignoring the pain shooting up his leg, he stood and ensured his swords were still with him. Daryyk instantly looked upon him with concern, but Cor waved him away and studied readouts for what corridors were still open to him. "Daryyk, take one of the orbital insertion pods to the planet's surface. I have unfinished business to attend to here."

"To die in combat is honorable, Cor, but do not waste your life in a suicide mission."

"It won't be." Cor said, hurrying from the room and on his route through the safe compartments to the bridge.

Despite himself, Quinn was starting to enjoy being stranded here. Amongst a group of five other ODSTs, discipline was lax to say the least. He'd had a shower and something to eat, and now was heading farther inside the building behind Jillian, along a hallway lit by blue lanterns. The crevices along the walls became more than lines, bending up into patterns and pictures he couldn't quite make out. Presently, she stopped and pointed to the next room. "He's in there."

Quinn nodded, and kept going while she turned back. There were fewer lanterns inside, and the ceiling disappeared up into darkness. A lone figure stood in the light before one of the walls, surrounded by papers scattered on the floor and a crate with books and a small computer set on it. A worn leather coat was draped over his sagging shoulders. His hair had long since turned white, hidden under an equally worn leather ten-gallon hat, with thick spectacles over his eyes. He stared carefully through them at a small photo, then glanced up at the wall. It was then he noticed the trooper.

"Ah, you're here. Quinn, is it?" his voice was shaky, and sounded to him like he had a larynx filled with dust, but there was still strength behind it. "I remember seeing you before. You were one of the two men with Moore's group, correct?"

Erik was surprised he'd recall such a detail. "That's right, sir." Hallmay wasn't his superior, but he didn't know what else to use. "If I might say, we were trying to get you out of all this, Doctor."

The old man shook his head, removing his hat. The top of his head was bald, ringed by his hair. "I couldn't leave. There is too much worth knowing here. Too much we need to know."

Hallmay turned back to the wall, staring up at it in awe. Quinn disagreed. "It won't be worth finding out if it gets you killed. We're fighting a war, if you haven't noticed."

The doctor sighed. "We're losing a war, more accurately. With Reach's population gone, there may not be enough of the human race left to match the aliens. That's why I'm here. With quality, not quantity, of soldiers lies our only chance. The builders of this place could have wiped out Covenant fleets with a few fighters. We need that technology."

This got the marine's interest. "Are you saying there's weapon technology here?"

"Maybe. But, boy, there's so much more they could offer us. The secrets of slipspace, shielding for whole worlds, and millenia of history. Perhaps even answers to the older questions." His wonderment changed to concern. "Or why they left it all behind."

"Why?" Quinn asked, taking the bait of his cryptic words.

"We know very much about the Forerunners, because most of their buildings are untouched. They weren't destroyed by war, or catastrophes. And yet, they are gone. What happened to them, then?"

Erik started putting the pieces together in a way that made sense. "You think it was their choice?"

"There are a few theories. That they died of sickness, or that they went on some extra-galactic mass exodus, or even transcended this plane of existence. But from what I have seen, I am not so sure. I think they chose their own end, for whatever reason."

Quinn was just starting to become interested in the ruins himself when the radio on Hallmay's makeshift desk screeched. PFC Sung spoke. "Morita here, I've spotted friendlies making a beeline for our spot, I'll hail them. But, ah, more interesting, we have company overhead. Navy and Covenant."

Hallmay walked quickly over, faster than Quinn thought he was capable of. "We'll be right up, Sung, see you in a minute."

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 01:54, August 23, 2011 (UTC)

62
A burst of flame shot down the corridor of the Patient Devotion. 086 Awakened Follower swerved down a side corridor to avoid the firestorm. He lost sight of Korea Team and the Covenant's Elites. The doors locked shut sealing Follower for the chaos outside.

"Oh dear," Follower stated simply. He noticed that both doors were locked and almost casually burned a hole in the floor just wide enough for him to slide through. He floated into a large cavernous room, a section within engineering, presumably.

There were huragok frantically working the repair this section of the ship. A lost cause as far a Follower was concerned. But there still was the question of his escape. Follower glanced down at the huragok again. Schematics that his Sentinels had recovered earlier suggested that he was near the hull of the ship. Judging how close he was to the huragok, Follower calculated that if he ignited one of them the rest would follow in a chain reaction. Looking at the compromised fuel lines, Follower deduced that the resulting explosion would easily blow a hole through the hull.

The ship was already damned, as rivers of plasma were already incinerating the ship from the inside out. All that he would be doing was speeding up the process. The only thing that caught him was his pre-programed conscience, in the form of a protocol that clearly was clearly designed to discourage him from killing these creations of his masters. Follower shrugged-off this warning. One huragok turned to Follower in consideration, as though it could read his thoughts. It fearlessly submitted, hovering away from his futile work.

"Oh well. Every war has it's casualties," Follower swiftly concluded, preparing to enact his plan. The beam instantaneously struck the huragok's rigged harness, and electrical pulses enveloped the Engineer's bulk. The rest of the column had enough time to let out a low cry before coming to the astounding realization of Follower's plan. The initial blast discharged against Follower's hull, casting him into wall behind him. He soon found himself at the heart of successive explosions that were tearing at his shields every second.

Just as Follower's shields had extinguished, he found himself involuntarily floating backwards, out of the ship, with the wall directly behind him. The ship was venting its atmosphere. Turning himself about, he quickly activated his thrusters, propelling him outwards into the vacuum of space. Follower lazily drifted out while sangheili flew out behind him clutching their throats out of suffocation. Mandibles agape with silent roars.

"Serves them right," Follower said with no emotion.

He glanced back at the ship to see that in fact he had created a much larger gape in the hull than intended. He found himself directly underneath the ship's mistakenly charging energy projector, which the vast expulsion of energy must have triggered. Follower excitedly propelled away again, as the projector didn't fire the expected beam of plasma, but instead, exploded in the same manner as nearly everything else. The ionized particles soon caught up with him, seeping through some of the gaps in his metallic shell. As the propulsion began to slow down, one bolt of energy hit a nerve-like joint in his system, rendering him paralyzed. He soon found himself shutting down and unable to move.

As he rotated downwards, he found himself looking at the horizon of another shield world. A small planet divided into two hemispheres. The top half was an open desert and the bottom was clearly a dense forest. Two unusually different climates. Finally, his central eye shut off. Just before his thought processes ceased, he determined that he would regain consciousness and functionality in mid-atmosphere. --TehSpartan 19:51, August 28, 2011 (UTC) Revised by Pikapi

63
"That explosion had been bigger than the rest." Cor thought to himself. He had stumbled, catching himself against a wall. He was now living on borrowed time. "If Daryyk had any sense, he would have probably left by now." Cor thought, and he began to think that he might not have enough time to reach a drop pod. Among the crowd of lesser races, he spotted an unggoy marked with the symbol of shipwide security. Cor grabbed the tiny creature, pulling him aside.

"Can you access what remains of the security cameras?" Cor asked urgently.

The fearful unggoy nodded, its hide coated with sweat.

"Good," Cor responded, dismayed that he was looking towards an inferior caste for help. Patch in here and find me the ones closest to the bridge. I want to know where the demons are." The creature did as it was commanded, and Cor took out a com link from his armor pouches. "What is your name?"

"I am Kiso, your excellency." it squeaked, not looking up from his task.

Cor handed him the link. "When you find them, report their whereabouts to me immediately."

The unggoy accepted it, and continued its work. Cor left at once, finding one of the port side deployment bays for insertion pods. Entering his authorization into a computer, he opened one of the tubes and crawled inside. As it sealed, his earpiece buzzed.

"Your excellency, the demons and their heretic ally appear to know of the pods near the bridge." Kiso reported, his high voice strained by panic.

Cor answered his hail. "Fine work, Kiso, take pride in it. Are you capable of ejecting them immediately?"

"I don't believe so..." Kiso responded, apparently busy at work.

Cor growled in anger, and in response, the unggoy on the other line squealed in terror. "If the chance arises where you sabotage their landing zones, do so. Otherwise, be sure to track each pod's trajectory and speed, especially the heretic's. Transfer the statistics to my pod once your work is complete."

"It is done." Kiso replied, as numerous holographic projections began to appear before Cor in his pod. Cor almost forgot about the unggoy as he prepared to launch himself.

"B-but your excellency, what of me?" the unggoy asked, hopefully.

Cor sighed. "You will be remembered for your contribution towards the Great Journey, have no fear."

As Kiso frantically protested, Cor severed the link and launched his pod. When the heretic launched, Cor would be waiting in orbit with his pod's maneuvering jets prepared to intercept his reentry.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 21:56, September 1, 2011 (UTC) Revised by Pikapi

64
Luc had been crawling down the maintenance duct he had climbed into, feeling the Covenant vessel rock and shudder beneath his feet.

"This is the result of that little bout back there? I expected the Covies to make sturdier ships." Luc muttered, getting thrown forwards a few feet as a particularly violent blast hit.

"Damn! What the hell is going on down there!?" He exclaimed, followed by a muffled response from Riley.

"I can't say for sure; but we and the Grapes just jumped over some sort of planet! What's left of the cruiser is being pulled into the gravity well." Riley replied, static almost rendering his message inaudible. "Gotcha. I'm gonna take a pod down, see you on the surface!" Luc responded, kicking out what seemed to be a vent, before lowering himself through the narrow space. Luck seemed to be on his side, as there were several orbital insertion pods waiting for him in a nearby deployment bay. Seeing as how the slimmer variety used by the Elites would be a little too cramped for his liking, he decided to use the heavier multiple-occupant variant. Entering the pod, he looked down at the small column-shaped console, which amusingly consisted of a single holographic button; simplified for the less intelligent races of the Covenant. Luc smirked and pressed the button, watching the shields that made up the walls of the pod flare up. The pod was released from its clamp, and the pod immediately begun to drop into atmosphere.

TheivingFan 21:23, September 2, 2011 (UTC) Revised by Pikapi

65
Torkamentov looked out at the planet that they had jumped into orbit over. Framed in the foreground was the Covenant ship, which was plunging into the atmosphere as a fireball. Looking, Torkamentov could see little pods flying out of it, what he assumed was everyone on the ship getting the hell out before they died. He hoped that the teams were all right, but the plasma fires enveloping the dying Covenant vessel were so great, that communications with anything near it were cut off. Turning around, he walked back up the length of the bridge and sat down. Over to the side, Garcia and that other robot thingie that had teleported onto the bridge before the jump were in the midst of a conversation. Torkamentov didn't know what they were talking about, but it was annoying, since Torkamentov was having to do all the work here.

He looked over. "Comm, contact the fleet. Send them our location over a secured channel, and ask that the rendezvous with us here." Acknowledging the order, the crewman got to work while Torkamentov turned to the tactical console crewman and said, "Get some troops down to the planet and recover our teams. Also, have them check out those ruins that sensors picked up." Falling silent, he looked back at Garcia. there was something odd about that machine, and he didn't like it, though Torkamentov. He decided that at the next opportunity, he would put measures in place to ensure the safety of the fleet, which was located somewhere on the other side of the white star.

Clyde looked around at the desert landscape. There was sand, sand, and more sand. The only thing interesting was the ruins on the horizon that they were headed towards. apparently, Private Quinn had been picked up by some other Marines who were holed up in the ruins. and now they were going to hook up to link their resources. It made sense, but Clyde was having trouble thinking. This desert was really hot.

Suddenly, a pair of giant mandibles burst out of the sand, and grabbed the Sergeant. Clyde yelled, "No!" And fired at the thing with his assault rifle. The creature shrieked from the pain, and tossed the officer away before it plunged back into the ground. The rest of the squad ran over to where the sergeant was laying. It was plain to see that he was dead. There were two gaping holes in his side, and his neck was bent at a weird angle. The squad bowed their heads, and removed his dog tags. They didn't want to leave him for carrion birds, so they used explosives to burn his body. When the body was gone, they set off for the ruins again, with everyone taking a backwards glance to the ash marks on the sand.

--Azecreth 18:04, September 4, 2011 (UTC) Revised by Pikapi

66
Riley watched as the Grapes silently shifted away from the Devotion at a slight angle. It soon became apparent to him that because the Grapes was a good distance above his vessel, however, that he was the one going down in atmosphere.

"I can't say for sure; but we and the Grapes just jumped over some sort of planet! What's left of the cruiser is being pulled into the gravity well." Riley responded to Luc's broadcasted query. Apparently, someone had already found an escape.

"My friends. These in this corner are a set of drop pods designated for the bridge crew." Turok began, his hand skimming a ridge in the elegantly designed metal. Riley looked at him in a confused manner. "They look quite different from those I've seen back on Reach." Ender replied. Turok nodded. "Yes, these bridge crew material. They don't lack in efficiency where they astound in luxury. I never thought I'd see one of these in my life." Turok answered. Riley was surprised at Turok's passion for some of the finer things in war.

While the others observed their means of survival, Riley observed a holographic tutorial in the corner, replying: "Aside from some more room, and a couple of gravity cushions, I don't see how they are all that special. If they mean that much to you though, Turok, you can have the captain's pod."

Turok stepped forward in awe, as the translucent hood automatically rolled up in order for him to enter. Turok fell into the seat, laughing heartily. Ryder's face suddenly turned much more serious however, as he turned back to Riley. "There aren't enough pods, sir." It was the first time that Ryder had ever addressed Riley as sir, so he turned to him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Ryder held his head in his hands. "No, no, no! This can't be right. Um... there are only seven pods. There are twelve of us, counting the marines. We can fit up-to two marines and Morales together in one pod, but there won't be enough room for one of us." Ryder responded in agony. Riley suddenly came to the epiphany that in the case of an emergency, that the Grunts and Jackals on the bridge wouldn't be offered any such means of escape in a scenario like this, and he almost felt for them. He also felt the blood rush to his head. He never even considered this predicament. Before he could speak, Matt stepped forward.

"I'll stay behind." he offered. It was so like him to offer to take the bullet. Riley just laughed in disbelief, raising his hand to say no, as Turok retreated from his pod. "It is wrong for me to stay. This is your mission, and I had done my part in assisting you. I'll stay now, and be honoured later." Riley tore his helmet from his head. "Back in your pods, that's an order!" Riley hollered. "...And I'm your equal." Ryder responded. Riley just shook his head. "I am your leader! I was assigned to command you Spartans, and even you Turok! I will do just that. Now get into your pods. Captain goes down with the ship."

"Don't just give up, Riley." Ender responded. "I've known you least of all, but I can tell that you aren't one to just give up.... Even if it means we get the pods."

This was the first plea to come out of one's mouth in the past few minutes that apparently wasn't an offer, so Riley listened. These words seemed to sink in, finally, and the others began to realize that Riley wasn't taking "no" for an answer. Riley let himself think. "Riley. You are a commando. You are to valuable. These marines offered their lives the moment they had conscripted themselves. You were drafted." The Oracle stated to him through his helmet, referencing his Spartanhood. This really hit a nerve. At this, Riley slammed his fist against the purple wall before him, breaking the hologram in the process. There was no way that he would take this advice.

Riley closed his eyes, as the ship tremored once more. "What would Rowan do?" he thought, and then he remembered what Rowan had done. In a similar scenario, Chief Petty Officer Rowan had sacrificed his life so that Riley could take the drop pod. In fact, Riley was just as passionate in his belief than as he was now. He remembered swelling up under his helmet as Rowan revealed to him the terms of his suicide. Riley wanted to remove his helmet and holler at him in the same manner. He respected him to much to do so though. Hell, he might have done so anyways, had he forgotten that he would have asphyxiated, and that sound doesn't travel in the vacuum of space. Either way, it didn't really matter much now. What mattered to him was that he was put into Rowan's shoes, and that he could finally relate. "See you all on the other side." Riley muttered, returning his helmet to his head. High on suppressed adrenaline and courage, Riley turned and raced from the room, slamming the doors shut behind him and partially knocking them from their hinges in an attempt to separate him from his rebellious crew.

It was just them now, and this time, Riley had left Ryder in charge. Ryder turned back to his squad in awe. Without paying their respects to their previous squad leader, a large creaking sound signified that it was time to get a move on. Ryder turned to Juliet, who almost seemed about to tear, and held her for a brief moment. Matt patting him on the back, meant that it was time for the two to part and take their seats. The couple took the center pods besides each other, and Turok offered the captains pods to the fragile marines, who needed the space and break much more than a seasoned warrior such as he. Morales, who also needed a seat, patted Turok on the back and climbed in first. Matt didn't even say a word, but silently shut himself into his pod and begun to pray. Without a word, the others closed their pods in the same manner.

"See you groundside." Ryder stated, pressing the holographic orange button appearing before him. The others also activated the drop sequence, collapsing into a burning tube-shaped tunnel directly underneath them. The pods exited the barrel, and gracefully began their descent through the atmosphere. Ryder merely sat back, wondering if he would have made such the sacrifice that Riley had.

Back in the incinerated corridors of the vessel, Riley wondered what he had just done. Deep down, he knew that his squad did, indeed, need him as their commander. The once purple walls of the ship were burnt a crisp brown, and there was no longer any stabile atmosphere. Holding to the walls, Riley slowly and silently headed back down the ravaged hallway, ducking when he came to a single, floating mgalekgolo shield.

The remainder of each wall was now thin and dainty. Just the slightest weight was capable of taking down walls and barriers, but he knew that it wouldn't be very wise for him to do so, as thick plasma fires surrounded any chunk of matter participating in this orbital reentry. Even his suit began to glow, once he reached the end of this hallway. He looked out, and saw that nothing around him had survived the burns, with the exception of the rear half of the ship a few kilometers in the distance. Riley turned back and grabbed the dead hunter's shield and dove over the edge, pressed against the metal.

67
Follower awoke some halfway through the atmosphere, falling like a perfectly spherical stone. He allowed his thrusters and stabilizers to kick in as he neared the surface, halting just in time. Follower was surrounded by two vastly different environments. To his left an sprawling rainforest and to his right a vast desert. Follower went into neither. His eye focused on the thick band of metal separating the upper and lower hemispheres, and he began to hover forward, using his prior knowledge of the planet as a guide. It had been decades since he had visited this installation, he had to admit, it would inconvenience him.

"That jump..." he began, "It could not have been randomized!" Looking up for a brief moment, he watched as the charred remains of the Covenant battlecruiser were set ablaze once more, only to be cremated in the midst of their futile descent. It was a glorious and unprofitable end, for the instigative Covenant alliance as well as the provoked human boarding party.

Above the ashes, the Grapes of Wrath stood proud over the ashes. Follower suddenly burst into a fury, as his orange flickered a scarlet red. "They couldn't have known. Could they? No, no, no! Those pesky inheritors! They knew all along! They were using us! They were using me!" Followers central eye began pulsing beams of energy in all directions, dislodging the trees to his left from their roots and sweeping the sands to his right in all directions. As they beams died down, his central eye remained a frightening red.

Follower finally settled down and peered down towards the metal band separating the two vastly different terrains. A small, metallic circular opening directly beneath him slid open to reveal a winding tube, just large enough for him to fit through. Without hesitation, Follower embarked on his rapid descent. A few meters down, the tube came to an abrupt end, where a gravity beam pushed him forward into a small, circular chamber, just large enough for him to fit into. Forerunner glyphs dominated the walls surrounding him, and to an Overseer such as he, gravity now appeared a futile force. Follower began twitching and rolling rapidly like a ball in a socket. He was deciphering a code that only he knew and was capable of accessing.

Finally, a holographic visual of the planet appeared before him. Follower than verified that the image was current and stabile. The holographic image shifted to a myriad of rapidly moving dots. "He had done this. Somehow, he had directed the Grapes of Wrath and the Patient Devotion to their precise locations. It was the first time in a millenia that he had made such a old move. An escape tactic. He must have using the humans as a tool." Follower figured. The visual shifted once more, to another dozen moving dots, this time on the surface. They were moving in a pack, and his sources identified them as non-native organisms. They were all humans, but another unit invaders all together. The first set of dots had one sangheili, and he was certain that elsewhere, there were another pair of dropping sangheili. "He planned this. This was all part of his scheme, and they were his tools! They all must die! They will! In the end, he will fail! Yes, he shall! And he will pay!" Follower thought.

Follower focused on the image, apparently entering some command. In seconds, large, three bell-shaped figures began to slowly rise underneath the surface, directly beneath the feet of those pacing north to the Forerunner structure. "Collect them." Follower stated in a satisfied manner.

--TehSpartan 19:48, September 4, 2011 (UTC) Reviewd by Pikapi

68
Seven pods began falling to earth. As they slid through the void, violet lines of plasma dissipating in their wake, one of the pieces of debris from the battle that had settled in orbit stirred. The jets ignited with a flash, and Cor 'Kedaree's pod gave chase to the others.

Drop pods of special operations soldiers were more advanced than the escape pods the humans had stolen. This eighth pod came into formation behind them, and began to weave among them as their hulls began to glow from reentry heat. Cor's plan had worked; before being vaporized with the rest of the Unggoy, Kiso had secured him a link to the bridge cameras, and Cor knew exactly which pod contained the heretic. He tracked it on the edge of the formation, and used the last of his emergency fuel to angle into a collision.

Alarmed radio chatter came from the humans as they observed but were powerless to stop the two pods from falling away from the rest, accelerating faster into the atmosphere. Despite the spike in heat, Cor was pleased with himself. If he was lucky, Turok would survive the drop, and Cor would be there, ready to strike.

Quinn controlled his curiosity, allowing Dr. Hallmay to keep up with him as they reached the upper balcony in the tower's base. The five other ODSTs were already there, one with a set of binoculars to his eyes. Corporal Ray Patel's focus was on the sky, with radio operator PFC 'Morita' Sung next to him holding the receiver to his mouth. Jill, plus Privates Danone and Melanie stood around them, only their eyes helping them to see the distant fireball falling to ground.

"It's a Covie ship, at least what's left of one." Ray stated. As the only one still in his armor, Quinn zoomed in on it and saw he was right. Parts of the hull were flaking off trailing plumes of smoke.

"Are we within debris range?" Jill asked, and Ray shook his head.

"Pod range, maybe, though. Morita, tell those men out there to double time it." The radio operator began speaking into the com, when Quinn saw a small speck in the direction of the ship.

Not to raise a false alarm, he zoomed in on it and allowed it to come into focus. The object was moving low over the horizon, and it flashed purple. "Spirit!" he shouted a warning. "Headed our way!"

The squad scrambled to alertness. Most ran back inside to don their armor, but the Corporal caught Morita and Quinn by their arms. "Morita, warn Stirling we've got inbound. Quinn," Ray took a silenced M7 Submachine Gun from his side and passed it to him, "On me. We're up until the rest are ready."

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 22:44, September 5, 2011 (UTC)

69
Torkamentov watched as more UNSC ships jumped into orbit around the planet. Many familiar ships were missing from this crowd, and some were definitely the worse for wear. One of the few that looked a lot more damaged was the Pax Americana. "Comm," said Torkamentov, "Open a channel to the Pax Americana." The crewman nodded to acknowledge that the channel was open. "Admiral Gingrich, how goes things there?" The channel was silent for a second, then the sound came over, "Admiral Torkamentov, this is Captain Cheney. Admiral Gingrich died in the last battle. You are now head of the fleet."

Torkamentov was stunned into silence. He was head of the fleet now, with all the responsibility that entitled. He quickly calmed himself in order to present a strong face to the stunned crewmen. "All right", he said, "Captain Cheney, continue repairs." Turning to the crewman in charge of the communications, he said, "General broadcast to the fleet. Admiral Gingrich has been declared KIA. I am now in charge of the fleet. Ships wiull begin repairs, and will dispatch any available forces to help the troops currently engaged on the surface. Grapes of Wrath out." He turned to Garcia. "I'll be in the tsctical situation room. Admiral Garcia, you have the Command." Torkamentov exited the room a Garcia looked at his back.

The words came over Clyde's radio. "Private Stirling, we have hostiles headed towards your position. we are moving to assist you, but we don't know if we can get there in time. Hold out as well as you can until we arrive. Morita out." Clyde nodded to himself. "All right guys, you heard that? Lets get a defense position set up." Looking around, all he could see was desert and more desert. On the horizon, he could see a few dots moving toward him. On the opposite side, toward the ruins, he could see some other, more numerous, dots running his way. All he had to do was hold out until they got here. "Well, I guess there isn't a good position. I would just stay on the ground. Rawling, you've got the rocket launcher, Jenkins, cover him with the DMR, and I'll hit them close range with the assault rifle. " Getting to work, they prepared to recieve the unknown attackers. --Azecreth 21:48, September 10, 2011 (UTC)

70
A sharp thud followed by near silence. All that Ryder could hear now was the sizzling of his entry pod. Peering through the purple-tinted glass, he could make out an armada of UNSC ships dropping out of orbit behind the victorious Grapes of Wrath, above atmosphere. The remains of the Covenant cruiser were now nowhere in sight. As far as he scanned the barren horizon, he couldn't make out any sign of the rest of his team. They were behind him, he figured.

Sighing, Ryder leaned back and abruptly kicked forward with both feet, propelling the sliding door into the sand beneath him. Holding his dizzied head, he nearly fell to his knees at the foot of the pod.

"I hate drop pods." Ryder muttered. Leaning against the pod, Ryder took a second to recover his stamina. Once he figured that he could move again, he turned and begun to stagger around his pod. "Matt!" he hollered. "Turok!" he bellowed, recalling what had happened in atmosphere. "Turrr-"

A few meters ahead of him, a massive, quadrupedal machine simmered in the intense starlight. Dozens of tubular, clawed tentacles had sprung from the levitating statue's chest. Behind it's main mass, the creature possessed a large glass globe, filled with a purple, gelatinous substance. Ryder could make out two lifeless humanoid figures submerged in the fluid. Matt and Ender. The robot's metallic hull was apparently identical to that of the advanced machines that had pledged to assist the UNSC. Even so, this one evidently posed a great threat to the team. Just as the massive hulk was turning in the other direction setting, it caught a glimpse of Ryder. Beneath the tentacles, a single claw begun spinning, and a growing ball of plasma could be seen growing inside. Ryder leapt behind his drop pod for cover. As the ball hit it, the pod was immediately incinerated and Ryder was knocked further back. Without his armor, he would have surely been killed.

Without consideration, Ryder climbed to his feet and began to sprint towards the behemoth machine. In turn, the Gatherer stomped one of the empty insertion pods, immediately crushing it. It's central claw slowly began turning again, with another bolt forming inside. Just as the Gatherer released it's bolt, Ryder ducked and rolled underneath it. In one final effort, the Gather attempted to crush Ryder, slamming its entire body down into the sand. The Gatherer's legs began to fumble, and struggled to climb back to his feet. From behind the Gatherer, Ryder leaned forward, revealing his Spartan laser, fully-charged and targeting the rear glass container. The blast instantaneously collided with the sphere, and the glass shattered, with blobs of the purple fluid spilling across the sand. In the center of the spill, Matt and Ender crawled out onto the hot sand and removed their helmets, gasping for air. "The marines. Where are they?" Ryder asked quickly. "Still in their pods." Ender replied, climbing to his feet. "Get them, quickly." Ryder ordered.

The Gatherer was not dead. Retracting its massive legs, the machine bursted into the air, now hovering above the team like a squid. Ryder wasn't prepared to let it escape. He darted towards the retreating monster and grabbed one tentacle, climbing it like a rope during Spartan training. Unholstering a grenade and flipping the top switch, Ryder shoved the explosive into its armor plating and fell back to the surface. Gravity, along with the force of the blast propelled him into the sand at a lethal speed.

Matt and Ender ran over, alongside the marines. "Ryder, You alright?" one asked. With Matt's help, he regained his stance, laughing. "Don't try that one at home."

71
The holographic screen remained as Follower drifted into the depths of the installation. It expanded off the planet to encompass the whole of the Zenith Complex. He had located the Covenant fleet. He could not allow The Contender to manipulate them as well.

"They too must be destroyed."

The alien armada had divided into three sections and had spread out through the complex in order to locate the human vessels whom had recently caught up with the Grapes. A portion of the dots were closing in on the grouping human fleet. The Covenant were getting closer by the minute, and soon they would be engaging the Inheritors. "Excellent," Follower hissed. Once the two fleets were weakened he would strike and crush them both.

Suddenly a strange symbol appeared on the console, from within the Grapes of Wrath caught Follower's eye. It was the Forerunner Glyph For a Rogue Monitor. "DARK ENLIGHTENMENT IS ACTIVE!?!?!" Follower roared. "More machinations of this treacherous Contender. Once the attack is made Dark Enlightenment will have to make his choice." Follower concluded. "He either sides with me or the Contender." The Holographic Screen closed and Follower eventually calmed and made his way down further to continue his duties. He was the monitor, and just like with the other Overseers  anyone who tried to usurp his power would die. --TehSpartan 19:44, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

72
"Stirling, wait for my mark on the missile strike." Corporal Patel said into the radio. For this to work, the two squads would have to coordinate perfectly. That and hope for the best.

Quinn could see where Clyde and his men had settled in, one of them with a rocket launcher over his shoulder. Back behind Quinn, Ray, and Morita on the platform, Danone and Melanie had set up a mounted missile pod to help bring down the rapidly approaching Covenant dropship. They'd have to wait until it slowed down so it couldn't evade the rockets, but it put Stirling's team in danger if the teams weren't fast enough. Quinn's part in this was just to observe. As the Spirit loomed closer, flying over the dune sea, Patel gave the order.

"Going loud!" Danone shouted, already locked on to the ship's hull. It was almost over Stirling's group.

Three missiles trailed white vapor as they sped on a collision course with the dropship, which was just settling over the marines. Moments before the missiles impacted, a plume of smoke rose from under the Spirit's shadow and an orange light connected with its belly. The other missiles joined it, tearing holes into the port-side hull. Trailing smoke, the Spirit dropped sideways and landed in the sand throwing up a storm around it. Reports of gunfire echoed across the sand to Quinn as Stirling's men finished off any survivors able to stumble out of the crash.

"Stirling to Kilo One-Five, all tangos eliminated. Job well done."

Patel was smiling through his depolarized visor. "Copy Stirling. Salvage what you want and come on in, you look thirsty out there. Guys, let's head back."

Just then Morita spoke up, pointing to his scanner equipment. "Sir, more targets inbound."

"What are they?" As Ray was looking at the scanner, Quinn began to grow restless. His helmet viewer looked at the team of marines getting over the last dune to reach them. Then he spotted the dark specks hanging over the desert in an unclouded sky. They were small, had glowing orange lights, and there must have been more than thirty.

"Drones don't give off a signature big as this." Patel thought aloud. "No craft that small, Covie or human."

"We're going to need cover." Quinn advised. They were outnumbered and with their ability to fly they'd outmaneuver them in the open. The tower and its tunnels were their only chance.

"Fall back to the tower!" Corporal Patel yelled to the marines running to join them. "Danone, Melanie, once they're in range take out as many as you can, then get inside!"

With the others falling in, Quinn fervently wished he had a bigger gun than the SMG.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 21:21, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

73
Matt looked around an saw that everyone made it out of the conflict okay. Turok seemed the most focused, most likely due to the fact he was used to dropping in pods like those. Matt felt dizzy. As soon as Ryder got his footing back, he immediately turned to look for Juliet. Ender smiled at the happy couple when they reunited. Matt gave a brief smile then went over to think of what to do next.

Ender came over. "What's wrong?" Ender asked. "Don't you want to come over?" Matt shook his head no, "Nah, there could be more of those collector things out there."

Ender smiled. "I think I know where those collectors's weaknesses are now."

Matt turned and laughed. "What, Grenades?"

"Tax collectors."

"Ba-dum-tsss." Morales chuckled coming up to Matt, imitating the punch line drum.

Matt was silent for a second. "You know what, Ender? I'll trying to figure that one out for the next month."

Ender grinned. " I love to make people laugh."

"Funny," Matt chuckled, "I was just thinking how much you remind me of Santa Claus."

Ender sighed, "Sometimes, things were tense back at training. I'd used to tell jokes to lighten the mood. Usually, they got a laugh or too, but sometimes there were hits like the one about the transformer..."

"Look, can we talk later, I need to check so we aren't surrounded." Matt said, cutting him off.

Ender nodded. "Then shoo, boy!" Matt joked.

Ender smiled and ran off.

74
Riley's eyes jetted open. The coarse feel of the ground made it apparent that he wasn't resting in any UNSC cot, however. He stretched and looked outwards, to his left, and than to his right. The terrain before him was flat, and the sky above him appeared just as beige as the hot sands beneath him. He looked in the other direction, and noted the pale star from a much less-distant position than aboard the Grapes of Wrath. As he was picturing the Grapes in his head, he noticed a very real outline of the ship in high atmosphere. It was undoubtedly the Grapes, and it was not alone, with at least six smaller vessels situated at its sides.

Riley rolled over onto his stomach, and recoiled in shock at sight of the blackened shield. It was hot to the touch, and now that he thought it through, so had been his armor. With ease, he lifted himself from the barren ground to a sitting position. His team was long gone, but what astounded him more was how he had managed to survive. He'd just about had his share of orbital drops since the start of this campaign. After all, it wasn't his job to jump feet first into hell. The ODSTs owed him, he thought. While his mind was on the subject, his helmet transmitter began to flare with static. He could make out some english in the disturbance, and it was undoubtedly components of the atmosphere that was interfering. From what he could here, it wasn't much of a distress call, but it seemed more like humans broadcasting their discussion to the public. A sure sign that they desired UNSC attention, however unlikely. Riley sighed.

"I am currently distinguishing their chatter from the interference. I'll have the the broadcast filtered in under two minutes, give or take heavy packet loss and Faraday EMI jitter." the Oracle chimed in. "The broadcast is being emitted from west of here..." it concluded, placing an opaque arrow on his VISR, pointing left. This was exactly what Riley wanted.

"Thanks, and good morning to you too." Riley joked, before setting off to the west.--

75
Morales turned to Matt and noticed that he was muttering under his breath. He instantly came to the conclusion that he was talking to Tron.

"Well, what have you got?" Morales asked.

Matt turned to face the opposite direction. "Tron was scanning our surroundings. Says there is a large structure protruding from the sand about a mile north. Possibly shelter, or just a large peice of wreckage. From there, we may possibly be able to contact the Grapes, and tell them about... Riley."

Matt took off his helmet. His face was in tears. "Morales, do you think he's dead?"

Morales sighed and said, "Son, Even before the time I became a SPARTAN-I, I've seen the bravest men go down against other men or the Covenant. I see their faces, especially the ones under my command, in my nightmares. I just move on. If Riley is alive out there, we'll find him. Ryder knows what he's doing and with your thoughts on where to go, we can signal the Grapes and get the heck out of here."

Matt wiped his face, "Thanks man. That helps a lot."

"If it helps, I scanned the surrounding area. I detected a heat signature. It seems to be moving fast towards our location." Tron said loud enough so that Morales could hear him.

Matt was stunned. What could it be?

---''It's all here, black and white, clear as crystal. 03:13, September 18, 2011 (UTC)

76
Not far away from where the Spartans had made landfall, Cor finally slew the last of his automated attackers. The halves of the sentinel dropped to the ground, the cut edges glowing bright orange. Cor's energy swords dissolved as his claws let up on the activation studs, and he slumped to his knees. His armor and hide had been burned in several places by the infernal machines' beam weapons. He was exhausted, and let the sun warm his body before he would rise.

He had been so close. The heretic had been within his grasp when the sentinels intercepted them on the way down and he was forced to flee, landing without knowledge of where his foe had gone. How useless the clockwork guards were, perhaps left by the gods only to interfere with the Covenant's progress. They were merely obstacles purposed to inconvenience them, and still, the Prophets held them in such high regard.

Sickened by the machines, and having rejuvenated some in the heat, Cor looked around and found himself in a small valley between tall sand dunes. Replacing his weapons at his sides, he set out to climb one. It was no easy task for him, as his hooves sunk into the desert and he slipped back often, which caused him to miss a large shadow pass over and continue on its own way, before he crested the top of the hill.

Mountains, not far off. Desert for the rest of what he could see, his sharpened eyes seeing every so often a dark spire jutting up into the sky. Little to do but start walking, and he struck off towards the nearest of the spires.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 05:52, September 18, 2011 (UTC)

77
Clyde's eyes widened as the words that more hostiles were coming came in over the radio. this was increased by the news that the other marines were falling back. "Shit," said Clyde as he turned to face the rest of the squad. Looking toward the horizon, he could see some mechanical "things" moving towards them at a fair clip. "Um, run," said Clyde to the rest of the squad. They nodded and began sprinting towards the ruins in the distance.

Glancing back, he could see that the dots were growing, and that Rawlings was falling behind. "Rawlings, try to keep up," puffed Clyde as he ran. "Hey, you want to try running a couple miles while carrying a rocket launcher, 20 pounds of gear and a magnum," replied Rawlings. "Nah," said Clyde, "You look like you’re handling it just fine." They kept running, the ruins rising in the horizon.

Alarm bells rang off all over the Grapes of Wrath. "Admiral," said a crewman at the radar console, "We're detecting a slipspace rift forming near our position." Torkamentov walked over to the console to verify the reports himself. "Damn it," he said, "Is it more of the fleet, or is it the Covenant?" He thought it over, and quickly made his decision. "It can't be more of the fleet, they would have shown up with the other ships. Contact the fleet, tell them to arm all weapons, and prepare to engage the enemy."

"Admiral," yelled the radarman, "Covenant vessels exiting slipspace!" "All right," said Torkamentov, "All ships, move in and engage the enemy." He sat back as the ship began moving toward his foes. This was it, decided Torkamentov. He would retreat no more. This is where they would make their stand and triumph, or this is where they would fall. --Azecreth 14:26, September 20, 2011 (UTC)

78
"Riley?" the Oracle inquired as Riley jogged through the sand dunes.

"Riley, can you take a second to listen to me? I've been eavesdropping on their conversations. Among the chatter, I was able to identify some names. Rawlings, Danone, Melanie, Quinn. Do any of those names mean anything to you?"

The Oracle felt Riley tense when she finished her sentence. She had all of the proof she needed. "Well, who?"

Riley sighed. "It's Quinn. Eirikur Quinn was an acquaintance of mine back on Hope. Clever ODST. Good with sidearms."

"Small world, huh?" the Oracle asked, rhetorically. "So since I was off that, I've also been trying to pinpoint the source of those transmissions." the Oracle continued, expecting a response.

"Yeah, do how'd that turn out?" Riley asked without much expectation.

"Well thats just the thing! I couldn't isolate a definitive point of origin."

"What does that mean?" Riley responded.

"One of two things; there are thousands of groups scattered all about this desert, or at numerous points, there are markers distorting the signal. All roughly identical in size and shape, but I haven't determined the specifics, only that they are large pylons."

"Covenant?" Riley asked.

"Mmm... not likely. And I can't imagine them having been purposed as jamming devices. There are just so many of them."

Riley stopped, "Where are they, up ahead?"

"Well yes, but, they are everywhere. And here's the dilemma, I have also been picking up brief transmissions from Matt. He whispering. He's asking if you're alive."

Riley paused, activating his communicator. "Well what are you hesitating for?!" Riley reprimanded. "Hey Matt? Matt?!" Riley began to ask through his in-helmet radio.

The Oracle waited for him to calm down before continuing. "It is no use. From what I can tell, due to each group's current positions within the formation, none of us will be able to contact each other. We're all blind as bats."

Riley sighed again. "So what do you suppose that I do now?"

"Well, for starters, the nearest pylon's just beyond that mound."

Riley turned both ways until his eyes met with what was surely the largest hill in sight. He turned his body and ran towards it. Than past the top. Riley stopped and starred out into the expanse. A huge plain stood, all sprawled out before him. Just from what he could see, there were at least twelve of these massive, silver spires. Suddenly, the heart of one began to glow a light blue, and a soft burst of radiant light launched from its arched peak. Two others did the same, and the rest followed in perfect harmony, continuing the silent symphony.

And they all thought that he was dead. Daryyk wiped the last blotches of unggoy and kig-yar blood from his battlesuit, recalling vividly as the last of vermin turned on him as he made his way towards the Devotion's final escape pod. The last time that he had encountered them acting so primitively ravenous was during an older conflict, which he himself was ashamed of, although for an entirely separate reason.

Either way, he had found all of the data that he needed to prove that the machines were beginning to act unusual. His last observations of the human's starfortress showed that the Sentinels were engulfing it in a dense shell. In fact, their intentions seemed malicious towards them. He witnessed Enforcers pursuing human interceptors in circuits around the vessel. Perhaps the Forerunner machines were just learning of how the Covenant were the true reclaimers. Something told him that he'd best not bet on it.

79
The UNSC Heaven's Asunder winked out of slipspace above the planet. Commander Elana-071 sat at the helm, the three other SPARTAN-II's at consoles around the bridge, helmets off.

"Slipspace transition complete, Commander"

"Ship status?"

"Green across the board. We're running dark."

The prowler, much smaller than a UNSC Frigate, floated in orbit. Elena typed commands for a scan into the console, and then stood up, putting on her CQB variant helmet. "Follow me, this'll take a while". The four Spartans walked down the Prowler's corridors, and down a single flight of stairs until they came to a door. Elena activated the voice scan. "Password: Aries".

The scanner let out a satisfied bleep and the door opened, revealing a room filled with lockers and crates: The armoury. "Take your pick" Elena said softly, before stepping aside and allowing the others to step in. Marco opened the first locker, revealing several rifles, still wrapped in plastic covering. Jax tore open a crate marked MJOLNIR-VI. "Commander, can we use these?" he asked. The others turned to her.

"Some things should be compatible, though they weren't designed for obsolete variants."

"Obsolete?"

"New MJOLNIR, boys. I'm field testing it. We've got a dozen suits being manufactured back on Earth"

They looked at her black armour for a few seconds. It was more streamlined and much less bulky than theirs. "What are the improvements?" Kane asked.

"Increased health, auto-B-foam injectors and an improved gel layer, off the top of my head. If we make it back to Earth, we'll get you some suits" Kane nodded an affirmative.

"Right now, we need to stock up and get ready; I've got one Pelican on board. We'll head to ground, look around, gather intel, then leave. We don't even have to fight"

The three Spartans of Sigma shifted uneasily at this. They were built for fighting. "What about the other UNSC Forces? We can't just leave them for the Covenant, ma'am". Jax was not usually seen as the voice of reason, but he was right. Elena also noted the use of formalities. She may outrank them, but they had trained together as children. Then again, 27 years is a long time. People change.

She sighed. "I agree, Jax. The mission takes priority, but if we encounter any personnel on the ground, we'll assist as best we can. Remember, our mission is classified, codenamed Operation: ASPHALT."

"Asphalt?" Marco inquired. He had been quiet the whole time.

"I'm guessing that someone at ONI couldn't come up with a 'cool' name for my mission, okay? Let's move"

Back on the bridge, the scan of the strange planet was complete. Elena uploaded it into her suit. She had taken two SMG's, and a new Battle Rifle. The others had taken various weapons, and were currently loading the Asunder's only Pelican. Whatever they found down there had to be useful; this late in the war, there was really no alternative.

The Pelican dropped from the Prowler, its crew of four Spartans ready for action.

Brodie-001

80
"What the hell is going on?" Torkamentov roared, watching from the main screen as sentinels formed a dense wall around the vessel. The ship was shaking, but not from covenant plasma bursts.

"Admiral. These machines! They are engaging our patrol squadrons! And all of our sensors are jammed!" first officer Andre Morgan stated in distaste.

"Damn it," responded Torkamentov, "I knew that they couldn't be trusted." He turned around, and muttered into his comm link. I need a team of MP's to the bridge please." walking around, he looked over the tactical map.

"As though us still not having our navigational AI isn't enough." Garcia muttered.

There were too many of the damn machines, and Torkamentov had no idea where they were coming from. He probably could have taken them if he had had a fully repaired and stocked fleet, but in their current situation, there was no contest. He would have to figure out a way to disengage as fast as possible, and to find retreat in order to initiate repairs.

"Follower! Follower, what is this?!" Bellowed Torkamentov across the shaken bridge. In moments, the silver sphere appeared before him.

"The ally of my enemy is also my enemy..." the Overseer claimed in a soft voice, hovering across the bridge. "Even you reclaimers can be pesky, and those of you who are must be dealt with!" he exploded. When the sphere turned back towards the admiral, he took note to the abrupt change of color in Follower's central eye.

"What are you talking about?! What about our alliance?!" Garcia asked, stepping forward. The Overseer observed Torkamentov with a malevolent curiosity, before hovering over to Garcia. "Oh, you know very well what I am talking about! He crept into your minds and used you humans! He brought you here!"

Garcia turned to Torkamentov for defense, but the admiral was captivated by the machine's false claims. With his hands closed behind his back, he discretely signaled for his guards to fire. Follower was all to wise for this however. As the marines jumped into formation, Follower went berserk, projecting a solid beam of energy in all directions. The marines were on the floor and convulsing in pain within seconds.

"You're all on my team, now!" The Overseer threatened the bridge crew, with indifference to the individuals. "This complex may be Forerunner, but these worlds are MINE!!" Follower hollered. As more guards bursted through the doors with their weapons raised, Follower began to speak once more, looking down. "Oh dear. If you'll excuse me, I have a more urgent situation to deal with on the ground..."

Once the room was sufficiently flooded with astounded marines and medical professionals, Follower disappeared. Andre walked over to Follower's previous location, and in awe, felt the air where he had just dematerialized.

Torkamentov paced across the bridge and stopped in front of Garcia, who was apparently blown away by the speech. "It is with a heavy heart that I must place you under arrest for treason against the UNSC. You have been corrupted by an alien influence, and your presence on this bridge is a security risk. I must ask you to accompany these men to the brig."

Garcia was stunned, and could barely utter a word as the MP's walked up to him, and seized his firearm.

"Admiral, you're wrong! I'm not an alien! I'm my own self! Please, you have to listen to me! I'm not a threat! You can trust me!" Garcia began hollering as his crew escorted him from the bridge. The door slid shut, cutting off further pleas.

"I wish I could," muttered Torkamentov, "But I just don't know."

His mind swirled as he tried to figure out a way to save the fleet. Finally, he hit on it. "Prepare for a sublight jump,” he roared. “We can't do that,” protested a crewman. The engines have taken too much damage.” “Get out of my way,” said Torkamentov as he elbowed the crewman out of the way, and began furiously typing on the engine console. “I won't tolerate any defeatist talk like that. I won't concede defeat just yet.” After using his command codes to override some security protocols, he deactivated some of the safety protocols on the impulse drives. Everyone was looking nervously at him, but he didn't care. Suddenly, alarms rang out on the bridge. "Admiral! They're boarding the ship!"

"Damn," responded Torkamentov, "Order Marine teams to the breaches. Their enemies will be mechanical in nature, so they should equip themselves accordingly."

"Alright. That's it. We can't wait any longer, and something tells me that we are not welcomed here. All hands, I'm setting us a new course," he said, providing the console with a new set of coordinates, which had to be done manually without the bridge's AI calculators. . The man who worked the engine console looked at the map destination and said in a frightened voice, “Admiral, that is the..."

"Yes, I know," said Admiral Torkamentov, "That is the closest I think that this ship can get us to the corona-sphere of that local star without burning up. It's not like we have a choice. Either these things will kill us, the sun will kill us, or the solar radiation will fry all these things off us and give us time to prepare another randomized jump." Before anyone could answer, Torkamentov leaned over and hit the engage button. "Let's just hope that we don't reappear around any one of Follower's planets." --Azecreth 20:30, September 23, 2011 (UTC) revised by Pikapi

81
At extreme range, even Sentinels couldn't be perfect shots, and their beams couldn't last more than a few milliseconds. Quinn counted himself lucky on those counts, because otherwise he, Squad Kilo 15, and Clyde's team would have been dead by now. But they were closing fast.

All around them, orange beams superheated the ground in fractions of seconds, causing the spots to combust throwing up plumes of sand. If they'd been able to hold a beam, they would have just swept across the area and cleaved through everyone out in the open. Fortunately, by now they'd reached the base of the structure. Turning around, Quinn and Ray provided cover for the last ones in, their rounds doing little more than denting the Sentinels' armor. They refused to give in so easily, however, and were rewarded with one of them bursting in mid-air as it approached at high speed, showering one of the walls with high-tech scrap metal.

"Danone, Melanie, clear the roof!" the Corporal took enough time to shout between selecting targets. By now, the sky was starting to be blotted out by the cloud of arriving drones.

"Gotcha Ray, we're coming in."

The reply allowed Ray and Quinn to fall back into the tunnel, more sheltered and with only two choke points for the drones to enter through. Quinn looked up the ramp and spotted Danone, hauling the missile pod to the top when an orange beam struck his back. The ODST's chest lit up, and for a second Quinn thought he could see the marine's skeleton, before the light faded and Danone fell to the floor with a cry.

"No!" Melanie called out, dropping the pod's stand and grabbing Danone's limp shoulders. The smoking hole in his back would have told anyone he wouldn't be getting up again, but she kept shaking him. Then, screaming and cursing explosively, Melanie raised her assault rifle and started firing back outside.

Quinn wanted to run and pull her down inside, but Stirling grabbed the back of his collar. "She's making her choice, don't make it yours!"

Sure enough, a moment later a beam cut off Melanie's yelling. The rest of them backed into the main room, taking up positions behind rib-like support structures or kneeling to create a phalanx of rifles. Forced to the back, Quinn bumped shoulders with Dr. Hallmay, who glanced worriedly between the marines, the machines floating outside, and the glyphs on the walls.

After several tense minutes listening to the Sentinels hover around outside, PFC Morita asked, "Well? What are they waiting for?"

No answer came, from his fellows or the machines. They seemed to be patrolling around the structure, containing them but not yet going to purge them. After a while, Jill guessed, "Maybe they figure they don't need to. Just starve us out."

"Yeah, well, joke's on them." Ray said. "There's a whole underground lake here and we've got plenty of MREs."

"Great," Morita said sarcastically, "We are gonna starve."

"Hello? Hello, this is Bravo 029, does anyone copy?" Angel said into her radio receiver. Her dropship flew alongside another Pelican and a Longsword fighter that, like 029, had been left behind when the Grapes closed in with the Covenant ship and jumped. They hadn't gone far, but it had still taken a while to catch up in normal space. If this system could be called 'normal space'.

No Covenant had seemed to think three small ships were of any importance, at least. All three ships were low on fuel, so they were mostly drifting on inertia. No counter-force in vacuum, after all. A Pelican, because it was made to hover in atmosphere, could be pretty nimble in zero-G. The problem was that a dropship had so much mass that a lot of force was required from small maneuvering jets, and that ate fuel quickly.

"Ma'am, I'm hailing the bridge, but no response." Ensign Gossard told her. "They must be real busy. I'll try to raise the flight deck."

Angel would have preferred to talk to the bridge. Not that the flight deck chief was a bad sort, but his name was Clarence, and every rookie pilot insisted on making some obscure holovid reference. With the radio channel now on open frequency, she asked, "Lieutenant Junior Grade Yasunaka, acting flight leader. Grapes of Wrath, do you copy?"

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 01:09, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

82
086 Awakened Follower was pleased with his work. The seeds of discord and distrust had been planted inside the humans. Torkamentov's mental state was fragile and with one more little push he would crack. After a few minutes work it was done. False security footage of Garcia overpowering a murdering the Military Police who had taken him. He quickly hacked into the mainframe of the Grapes of Wrath and inserted the fake video. All he had to do was wait for the human command to tear itself apart.

But there was still one problem: the humans on the planet. There were still numerous active groups on the surface and there was still some time before the humans captured by the Gatherers would arrive. A holographic screen appeared and highlighted two groups. One was in the thick of the Jungle commanded by Dennis Moore consisting of survivors of Korea Team. A second team far more interesting to Follower was shown as well. The Spartans. With them dead the Humans backbone would be broken. His lone eye focused on the Spartan Ryder. For their first meeting Follower had disliked Ryder, but know was his chance to strike. He would lead a team of Sentinels and Enforcers to their location to kill them. And with a flash of Yellow, he was gone.--TehSpartan 17:26, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

83
"Move soldiers, move!" one commanding officer whispered into the microphone strapped to his suit. His strike team of MPs followed close behind. "When it comes to Sentinels, we shoot to kill. With Garcia, all that we know is that he is armed and dangerous! Shoot to disable, if necessary."

The lieutenant closest behind caught up with the commander. "Sir, is it really like Garcia to pull such a stunt?" The commander just looked back in surprise. "I know what you mean, lieutenant, but you saw the clip! Besides, we've all got reason to believe he's defected."

The lieutenant looked like he had more to say, but he decided not to continue. The armed men stumbled upon two alarmed doctors, who quickly scurried past. "Steady now. He's near here." the commander continued into him mic. "We've got 'em in the left corridor. Hands where we can see 'em!" One officer said into the mic. Each team rounded the corner in sync, with their firearms in the air, only to find a startled Garcia, still being escorted.

Garcia's escorts knew the tight position they'd been put into by escorting their own captain to the brig. Unsure of what they were doing, even they put their arms in the air. In a matter of seconds, a wave of confusion passed over the crowd.

"What is this?" one escort began. "Change of plans?"

"The captain gave you quite a struggle back there, you sure you two are okay?" the commander asked in scrutiny.

"Yeah, um... yeah we're just fine. We've gotten no trouble from Garcia at all." the other escort responded, lowering his arms. Suddenly off-the hook, Garcia did the same.

The commander was apparently just as confounded as before. "Are you sure? We watched him from ship security. The admiral sent us to..." With a sharp look from Garcia, the commander cut-off in mid sentence and coughed courteously. "As your ex-captain, I'd like to know in detail, just what the fuck you think you are doing." Garcia interrupted. Without the audacity to respond, those in the room grew silent.

Suddenly, the silence was broken with an abrupt crashing sound. In seconds, a pair of the Overseer's minions joined the scene, firing their beam in short, controlled bursts. Numerous cries erupted from the first group of unsuspecting officers, and in seconds, half of the officers were recoiling in pain.

As one beam swept past, Garcia instinctually pushed one of his escorts behind a crate for protection, seizing his firearm in the process. Noticing this, the other sentinel hovered down towards him while its counterpart continued the massacre. Garcia scowled, grabbing the machine and propelling it into the titanium wall with adrenaline heavy in his blood. The machine's shields absorbed the impact and flickered out, leaving Garcia stupified for a moment, astounded by his feat. Without giving his foe the time to retaliate, Garcia began firing with pinpoint accuracy. The machine was disabled before it could work-up the energy to fight back. The other Sentinel recognized Garcia as a threat and turned to focus in on him. In that time, each able officer opened fire, and the Sentinel was neutralized before it was able to continue.

Garcia ran over to one mortally burnt lieutenant and yelled to the unharmed officer knelling besides him, ordering that he request a medic and more backup. The marine nodded and swiftly agreed, raising his transmitter to his mouth.

"Screw Torkamentov's orders, captain. You're a big damn hero. We need you at the helm." one commander claimed, patting Garcia on the back.

"Just like in the video..." one officer moaned, sitting up in order to tend to her wounded left arm.

"Oh dear," Follower began. "Things really don't seem to be working out for me, this revolution. The Grapes will be dealt with in time, however. The humans on my planet pose a particular threat to me."

From his control station, Follower monitored the humans progress.

84
"Video...?" Robert questioned, looking over at the wounded female. He then shook his head, focusing on treating the officer in front of him until help arrived. When reinforcements finally did arrive, a hurried explanation was given, so that the confused squad didn't attempt to take them all in. As the much welcomed medic took over, Garcia moved out of the way, rising to his feet. "So.. let me get this straight. After the Admiral had me arrested.. he ordered a random jump?" He inquired, switching out his sidearm's magazine for a new one.

"That's correct, sir." the Squad leader responded. Almost instantly, the small smile that had grown on Garcia's face dissapeared. Without the ship's NAV A.I., that was as good as simply plotting a course into this place's sun. "As soon as we can, we need to move to the bridge and see if we can put a stop to that.." he muttered, looking at the mixed group around him. "Alright, as soon as everyone's patched up, we're moving out! We'll be going back to the bridge... expect confrontation."

TheivingFan 20:00, September 26, 2011 (UTC)

85
Torkamentov heard the door to the bridge open up behind him. Without turning to face it he said, "So, has Garcia been dealt with?"

The voice that responded stunned him. "I would have to say that he has," said Garcia as he walked onto the bridge. Torkamentov turned around to face Garica and said to the soldiers behind him, "What the hell is he doing here? He's a traitor, remember?"

"Actually, sir," said the squad leader, "When we got there we found Garcia being escorted by the guys who led him off the bridge. And then we got attacked by some of those robot things." Torkamentov frowned, "So, you're sayng that the video was a fake." "Yes, it looks like that sir," said the squad leader.

"Well Garcia. Looks like I owe you an apology," said Torkamentov as he offered his hand. But despite this, Torkamentov still wasn't certain that he could trust Garcia. There was always the chance that he had coordinated the attack with the robots, in order to restore his credibility. Then he would have a chance to take over the fleet again. Torkamentov saw that he couldn't throw Garcia in the brig again, so he decided that he would just have to keep an eye on him for signs of further treachery.

Garcia took his hand and shook it, "Apology accepted, Admiral. But we have another problem. we need to stop the random jump. You could kill us all!" Torkamentov turned and walked back towards the viewscreen. "I know," he said, "But if I hadn't done it, we would have been destroyed by those robots by now. you know that. We just have to see this through." Garcia walked up to stand besides him. "I guess," said Garcia, "But I still don't like it."

Torkamentov closed his eyes. "Helm, bring us out of slipspace."

The ship lurched from the gap in space-time amid a flare of blue Cherenkov radiation. Opening his eyes, Torkamentov looked upon a large asteroid with a large metallic facility situated on it. "Can we detect anything on that asteroid," he asked. The crewman took a few minuted before responding. "I'm not detecting any life signs, and there are no major power signatures. "Look's like it's abandoned, and I don't detect any of those machines in the area, " said Garcia. "Dispatch some teams to the facility. Let's see if there is anything we can use there," said Torkamentov. Azecreth

86
Angel's eyes twitched back and forth across the empty cabin window. Just as Gossard was about to send their message, the Grapes had transitioned into Slipspace. For a moment, she expected it to come back, as if it was just another one of the stars winking at her. Then radio calls from her wingmen broke in her ears.

"Wing leader, this is Knife Four-Oh, what just happened?"

"JG, Uniform 013 is red-lining on oxygen. You have a plan?"

It brought Yasunaka's attention to her own ship's status. Bravo 029 was almost out of fuel, they wouldn't have power for much longer. "Guys, we don't have time to wait, or sit and think. We're going to set down on the planet's surface, maybe sit and think once we don't have to worry about air running out. Let's go."

The two vessels responded affirmatively, settling in right behind her as they entered the atmosphere. It was a surprisingly smooth reentry, even with no surface base guiding them in. Angel started looking for a landing zone. Wide open sand dunes gave her an answer. "Turn to ten o'clock, should be a soft landing."

"Hey, JG," Knife 40 said, the Longsword, "My craft isn't made for anything but tarmac. I won't be lifting off again."

"Wrath's Albatrosses can recover you when they find us." Angel replied as they angled down towards the wasteland. They came in low, the interceptor would have to slide in, while the Pelicans were close behind him. Each pilot was relying on their instruments to keep level, so it was by chance that Angel looked up and saw one of the many lean spires coming up fast. "Knife, break off! Starboard!"

"Oh my-" Knife's pilot started to say, but with the Longsword's speed was too late to evade. The ship's left wing broke off as it passed the edge of the spire. As it dropped faster and more vertically than before to the dirt below, the Pelicans banked to avoid the sheared-off wing. Uniform 013 was too slow, and had scrapmetal rebound from the ship's top side.

Like a kinetic machine, the dropship now swung toward Bravo 029. Angel was quick enough to avoid it, but the adjustment lost her a bit of control. Diving in the little space they had over the ground to get a starting point, she pulled up hard, almost leveling the ship out before their flight came to a rough landing.

That Damn Sniper, sniping. 23:20, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

87
Riley zoomed-in on the open plain with his VISR, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. After a minute at the top of the hill, he finally determined that he couldn't make out anything of importance. Before he could deactivate it, however, he noticed Covenant troops rounding the structures. He instantly recognized them as the remnants of the Patient Devotion, as they were all Sangheili troops. Riley dismissed the high-resolution image. In his mind, it was about time that he begun to see more of them.

"They are here seeking refuge inside of their relics." the Oracle stated, blankly.

"Something tells me that the Elites are familiar with these pylons," Riley responded, eyeing a curious pair of Elites located at the head of their formation kneeling before the structure, prior to heading inside through one large, clearly-marked entrance.

"I wouldn't doubt it. Our knowledge of their culture, Covenant culture, indicates that such structures had once been the sanctuaries of their gods." the Oracle continued. Riley continued to watch the line of Elites in curiosity. Riley's silence encouraged the Oracle to try at read his mind once again.

"Covenant glyphs and all, even their architecture. These ruins and the Covenant's knowledge of their creators serve as the basis for their religion. Whatever race had created these structures was evidently a lot more advanced than even them!" the Oracle responded with excitement. Riley knew that she was coming to conclusions rapidly, as her knowledge was expanding. Riley paced down the hill.

88
The Pelican dropship flew slowly, just above the forest canopy. Master Chief Petty Officer Kane-099 had taken the helm. The Commander was poring over her datapad, which held the scans the Asunder had taken of the planet. Every so often, she would look up at the others. Marco-025 and Jax-007 sat in the back, waiting. Eventually, Elena spoke.

"Set us down there, Chief" She pointed at a small clearing about half a mile away on her pad. The black-armoured Spartan nodded, and the dropship began it's descent. Elena made her way to the back with the others. It touched the ground, and the bay doors opened. Marco jumped out first into the dirt.

"Clear!"

Jax and Elena followed, scanning the area. Nothing. Kane walked out of the cockpit, retrieving his Sniper rifle as he did so. "What will we do about the ship, ma'am?"

"We leave it here. If we need to fall back, we rendezvous here and take off"

Jax leant against a nearby tree. "We've got something of a track record for losing Pelicans, won't this be risky?"

Elena shrugged. "We'll have to take our chances. I've made a few modifications to the ship too. Improved plating and flares among other things". Kane dismounted and the back doors shut behind him. "Speaking of modifications" he said, tapping the side of his helmet, "What were we able to install into our suits from that Mark Six gear?"

The Commander took out her Datapad, taking a glance at Marco, who was crouched by the treeline. "I did what I could with your suits. Kane, you have thermal vision in your visor that can be activated at will, should help with sniping. Jax, the power on your force-multiplying circuits has been improved, so you should be able to move even faster now". The red-armoured Spartan started waving his hand. It was a blur.

"Nice".

"Marco, there wasn't much else left in the pack, though I've increased your shields to nearly double strength, should be useful in close combat". Marco didn't react at all. He was being unusually quiet. An amber light winked twice on TEAMCOM, and Marco dived to the side as the bushes in front of him erupted into fire.

"Contact!"

A small, robotic figure hovered over the treetops. Sigma Team had disappeared. It was a greyish metallic colour, three 'prongs' sticking out around a single, glowing blue eye. It descended, towards the Pelican. As it did, a hail of Assault rifle shots spattered off it's shields. It turned towards the direction of the fire. As it did, another shot rang out and the machine exploded, pieces clattering to the forest floor. The Spartans emerged from the undergrowth, Kane and Marco reloading as they did so. Elena ran to what was left of the machine, tapping her helmet recorder as she viewed what components had survived.

"People, we've got a situation here!" Jax shouted. Several more of the machines had arrived, flying over the treetops towards the SPARTAN-II's. "Follow me!" the Commander shouted, sprinting into the forest. Kane took down another machine as he turned, following the others. The Spartans spread out as they ran, energy beams searing the dirt around them. More gave chase the further they ran.

After several minutes of playing cat-and mouse with the machines, they seemed to lose interest in their quarry. Elena spoke over TEAMCOM. "Team, regroup at my coordinates". Marco reached her first, closely followed by Kane and Jax. The Commander had found a hiding place under a large fallen log.

"Ammo" Jax muttered. He had taken a duffel bag of clips with him.

Marco grabbed some for his assault rifle. "took down three of 'em. They're weak at close quarters. They explode when you rifle butt them too". He didn't so much speak as he did state facts. Kane checked his sniper scope for a second before turning to Elena. "So, Commander, what's our MO? We haven't exactly been briefed on ASPHALT". Elena sighed. "My...our mission is to gather information and intelligence on these artifacts. We've uncovered others on different worlds, but nothing like this. I don't have top-level clearance, so I'm not sure of what it is that ONI wants, but this civilisation seems advanced, even beyond the Covenant in terms of technology".

"So we're looking for intel?"

"Yes".

"We'd better get moving, then".

The four Spartans stood up, checking their surroundings. Elena pointed eastwards. "Kane, find some high ground, get our bearings". Kane walked up to a nearby tree, and after a moment's hesitation, jumped eight feet, grabbing one of it's thick branches. The other three waited at the base. After several seconds, he had reached the top.

"Commander, I've sighted a structure, two clicks to the east. Robots patrolling the perimeter. I'm counting twelve at least"

"Copy that Chief. Get down here, we're moving. Marco, take point"

The Spartans began to move forward as Kane slammed into the dirt beside them. The forest was quiet. They hadn't seen any wildlife on the planet either, aside from the machines that had attacked them. Eventually, they came to a small ridge, beyond which their objective sat. Kane began to climb up, Jax following him. Marco and Elena moved further to the left before making their ascent.

"Everyone in position?"

Status lights winked green.

"Let's move!"

Brodie-001

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Stirling gasped for breath as the rubble from the collapsing entrance settled down. He heard on of the marines say," Yeah, well, joke's on them. There's a whole underground lake here and we've got plenty of MREs", to which another marine replied sarcastically, "Great, we are gonna starve." Having MRE's didn't seem too bad to Stirling. It was better than having to try and eat the local cuisine.

He levered himself upright, and walked up to the ODST, who his visor named as Quinn. "So, you're the mysterious Private Quinn that I've been following across this damn desert," said Clyde as he held out his hand. Quinn took the hand and said, "And you're Private Stirling. It's nice to meet you." Stirling stepped back and looked around. There was fairly big pond nearby, which he assumed had fresh water, from the comments made. He also saw some hallways which eh assumed led further into the ruins.

“Quinn, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have a look around, try to find a way out that doesn’t involve getting shot at by robots with lasers. Who knows, this place may have some sort of tunnel system below it.” Quinn nodded,” All right. Just bring some guys with you. We aren’t sure what else could be in here.” Stirling nodded. As he walked over to one of the hallways that seemed less lit than the others, he called over to the members of the squad, “Jenkins, Rawling, lets get going. We need to check this place out.” The two fell in behind him, grumbling about having to move out and not having time to recover. They fell into as banter as they walked down the tunnels, exploring the ruins. Azecreth 16:45, October 7, 2011 (UTC)