Prolouge

Brute Homeworld, Doisac

Mission: Recon Landing Area B-IS5

Time: November 20, 2553 0400 Hours

Corporal John Henas sat peacefully in the troop bay of the drifting pelican. He, as were his squad mates, was prepared to arrive on Doisac for the reconing of a perticular landing site. Intelligence reports from satellite recon suggested that there would be many numbers but morale was at an all-time low for the brutes. There would be little resistance. Many would be unwilling to fight. To give their life. Surrender.

Just like how there was little resistance of Covenant forces at the fall of Reach, Henas thought.

He wondered about the UNSC Victory Salute. How had it managed to sneak into system, sneak pass all the Brute ship patrols, get within striking distance of Doisac, luanch over thirty pelicans loaded with helljumpers, and then sneak out of system and regroup with the Fleet. How the hell did we manage that? Well, these weren't the Covenant buggers they had once known. These, idiots were dead without their prophets for leadership.

The pilot poked his head back into the troop bay and told the men that they had two minutes till they reached Landing Area B-IS5. Henas took his MA5C and grasped it tighter with his glove-covered hands. They were sweating under the gloves, almost, but slowly tried to drip from the glove's edges by the bottom of his wrist. ***, this hasn't happened since he had taken part in the Battle of Sigma Octanus IV and his attachment onboard the UNSC Iroquois, he thought.

The pelican's engines came alive and everyone stood up, prepareing to drop out into the terrian and what it prepared for them. The pelican leaned slightly to one side and then became level as the back hatch opened. Henas's helmet's night vision kicked in, lighting the entire area outside. Sergeant Denis Kirkland, whom Henas had fought with since Sigma Octanus, said,"Go, go, go."

Henas and the troops filed out, creating a perimeter around the hatch's opening and Kirkland hopped out behind them.

"Looks clear. Henry, you can set down," he said.

The pelican slowly closed the foot gap between it and the planet beneath it. As the pelican's engine turned off, the co-pilot walked into view from the dark bay and fell backwards, clutching his chest.

"***! Snipers! Get to cov-" Kirkland tried to mouth before the carbine shot from a sniper in the distance ripped through his visor and left throught the back of his head, splashing blood onto the ground.

Henas and the other three men ran towards a tree that appeared to have fallen recently. As he slamed into cover, more fire erupted from the trees. He peered over as spiker rounds flew above his head, missing by inches and the intensity unrelenting. The ODST to Henas's right stood up to spray the treeline with his battle rifle, but flew back as spikes slashed across his chest. The helljumper to Henas's left looked towards him.

"***! We need to get back to the pelican."

"Agreed. On three. Tell Franky to-," Henas started.

"Franky's dead, Henas," he said as he showed the carbine-made hole where his heart would lay within him.

"Okay, but we aren't. Now lets go," Henas said as he pulled the helljumper to his feet.

They sprinted from the fallen tree, closing the distance between them and the pelican fast. As they neared the opened hatch, they leapt inside and Henas went to controls. The ODST remained in the troop bay to stand guard against any unwanted visitors. Henas slid the dead pilot, as the pilot appeared to have been shot through the seat, onto the floor into his own blood pool.

"It'll take a few seconds to start up, okay?" Henas said, with only a grunted reply.

He looked back and saw the helljumper's body slumped to the side of the hull, with three spiker's in his stomach, and two in his right leg. He was finished off by the sniper, hidden somewhere in the tree still. Henas slid out of the chair as the pelican started and saw an enormous figure starting to get inside. Henas fired his MA5C at the figure until his clip ran dry and then switched to his M6G Magnum. The figure closed the distance fast and gripped Henas by the hip. Henas felt huge amounts of pain as he heard his rips break apart.

The visor finally identified the brute as a higher ranking one. A leader kind. A War Chieftain. The beast threw Henas to the ground and watched him sqirm in pain and fear. The chieftain raised his foot over the helljumper's head and came down with bone-breaking force and mass. The sound of the skull breaking followed the helmet's sound and then no more.

The chieftan turned as a minor approached. He hopped out of the human craft and walked torwards the minor brute and spoke.

"The humans wish to fight once more, it seems. Ready the defenses and AA batteries. Send word to Chieftain Lewerndus that this has happened. This may be the start of the counter-attack from our attack."

"Yes, Chieftain. It will be done," the brute said and he hurried away.

Chapter One

UNSC Victory Salute

Mission: Waiting with the Fleet for further orders

Time: November 20, 2553 1230 Hours

Joseph Alekseev sat in the Officer's Quarters and was watching, Earth's Ready News on the overhead television. It was weird that they had reception from out here, he thought. On it, the man was talking about the recent build-up of troops and how they were all moving in one direction. Behind his desk was live feed from a camera man on a drydock above Earth.

"..And the UNSC Destroyer, Normandy, has just recently left dry dock, headed towards were the rest of the fleet has gone. Known whereabouts of the fleet are still unknown and large detachments of UNSC Marines have been moved aboard these vessels, leaving a somewhat scared Earth, in the hands of the remaining Army forces still here on Earth. The UNSC shows, once again, that they care little about defense of Earth since the Jiralhanae attack one month ago. On other news, the colony of New Halen has just recieved its first returning civilins since the war with the Cove-...." and the report went on, day after day. The Victory Salute had seven-hundred marines aboard it, with only three captains, including Alekseev, and a commanding officer of the marines that were aboard it being Major Opum Lettet.

Lettet had fought in the Human-Covenant War, as did Alekseev himself but in other battles, in the battle for New Halen, where he had lead a group of hulljumpers into a great Covenant stronghold, had located an artifact, and had succesfully denied the Covenant it. Unfortunately, New Halen had to be abandoned as the Covenant forces had become over-whelming there.

Joseph looked to his left. There Captain Gavin, Joseph didn't know his first name, sat. Surprisingly, Gavin was calm and did not want to throw anything at the tv. Joseph had known about his courage during the war against the Covenant, but never had actually seen any of it. Joseph was about to talk to him when the loudspeakers roared on.

"All armed forces preparing for the attack on the Brute Homeworld, all armed forces, the invasion will began in t-minus one hour. Gear up and report to your commading officer for your missions. Get luck and kick some ass!" Major Opum this.

"Hell Yeah," Gavin this.

"Yeah!" followed the other officers, inluding Alekseev.

Joseph didn't know why he yelled it, but felt he had to keep everyone up for the coming battle. It would be a long one indeed. The reports had said little resistance would be met. Yeah, thats what command still said, Joseph thought. But where was the helljumper he knew? Henas was his name, wasn't it? Joseph couldn't remember execpt for the fact that a lot of the helljumpers hadn't radioed in, or hell, even show back up around the ship. What was going on down there on Doisac, such a distance away?

Chapter Two

UNSC Victory Salute

Mission: Waiting with the Fleet for further orders

Time: November 20, 2553 1231 Hours

Ship Captain Johnathan Stuart looked onto the tactical map that showed Doisac via satillite. The signatures of the helljumpers weren't there, hadn't been there if fact since...When did the last of the transponders shut off? Around 0500 Hours standard Earth time? Yes, that was it, Stuart thought.

How the hell did this happen though? These were the best of the best for Christ sakes! They all knew there missions. Secure a landing zone and hold it until 1300 Hours so the Fleet could jump in system and land more marines to start the intial phase of the whole operation. Oh, Stuart almost forgot, we also need to detain there navy to a different area while the landings are under way. Operation: Stealing Home (Stealing for the expectance of the easy battle ahead; Home for the fact they where taking the Brute's hmeworld) could not go wrong.

Every ship in the current arsenal of UNSC was being commited to this attack. They couldn't fail. They wouldn't fail. Never. Not like so many in the Covenant War. They had to bring another win for the people back home. And this planet will become the UNSC's. A nice replacement for Reach, perhaps? He thought. It was a industrailized planet already, the Brutes had made sure of that, so why not? But first we would have to take it from them.

He looked at a flicker of light to the notheast of the display. He moved closer. Was it possible? The light was that of a transponder from one of the helljumpers. Could it be back up battery power possibly? No, that could be it. It would have been severed to much if he was KIA. Maybe a brute had somehow activated it? Possible, but doubtful. Then, he could be alive!

"Lieutenant Briggs! Get over here! Now!"

Briggs left his station, COMMS., and headed over to the Captain.

"Sir?"

"What does this look like to you?" Johnathan asked, pointing at the transponder.

"One of the ODST's tracking units. What about it?" he said.

"It means he could still be alive! Get the Admiral on the line. I need to talk to him now." Stuart said and dismised him.

Major Opum was on his way down to the armory to set up a ground-based command center, so Johnathon could not ask his advice at the moment. But yet, the captian still had a plan for him to accomplish.

Briggs hurried over to his station and typed away. Stuart hoped this man was still alive. Both for the sake of his life and the Captain's own reputation was held in the balance.

Chapter Three

Surface, Doisac

Mission: Unknown at this time

Time: November 20, 2553 1230 Hours

Lieutenant Franklin Scott ran and leaped into some brush as a final means of escape. Trying to survive for eight and a half hours was a tiring thing for a person. He scanned the path he had just been following from a little opening in a bush. He could see two figures down the path, still darkened and silloutetted from the shadows casted upon them from the foilage above. Tropical foilage.

Damn, its hot, he thought as he kept his eyes trained down his 99D-S2 Anti-Matériel Sniper Rifle, sweat flowing on his body. Sweat peircing his eye. Stinging pain in his shoulder from a skirmish earlier that morning, now healed, of what could be done by BioFoam, slowly seeped open again. Help is what he needed now and what he knew he wasn't gonna get for awhile. In and out within several weeks. Total Victory. Total Failure was what the opening of this war had dealt with. The humans defeat. The Brute's accomplishment. My ass in the bushes down here while the fleet has a tea party. Fuck.

The figures jogged slowly in the direction of him, turning their heads and sniffing the air with their snouts. They stopped about fifteen feet from him and one turned and sniffed his direction. They spoke in a language unknown to Franklin and, Hell, everyone else.

"I smell him. Over there." Said the first, wearing dark blue. A major minor.

"You are sure?" asked the second one, wearing red armor. A captain.

"Yes, captain" the first stated, bowing his head towards the ground for respect.

""Get on with it then!"

Franklin watched as the first aimed its 'spiker' towards his direction and jogged.

"This time, I ain't getting hit!" Franklin shouted out of his COMM outside, for both agressiveness and a tactical foothold. This was followed by a peircing shot of gas-operated weaponary that he was welding in his hands.

It was agressiveness because he had come to the solution that this dark blue plated beast was the one that had shot him earilier that day, judging from the holes in its leg armor that had been placed there by Major Fredrickson, whom Franklin judged was dead now. The holes appeared to have been tampered with by a welder in an effort to seal them up but to no avail. Now it was tactical because first off, Franklin reasoned that the brutes had indeed reasoned that a human was nearby, but not where. He then guessed that since it didn't know where he was exactly at, he would surprize it and thow it off guard. This, it did do.

The round hit the outer layer of its self-protecting shield before they failed and the brute stumbled back in confusion. Franklin fired a second round a moment later. This round hit the brute in the chest armor, causing it to crack in half, peirced it, and drilled through the beast's heart and exited.

The brute fell to the ground, blood splattering from the wound on the ground as the brute's nerves casued it to twitch several times before it ceased to move at all. The second brute ran striaght towards Franklin's position, gaining the knowledge from the gas-trail that accompanied every round he discharged from the SR. The brute closed in, 10 feet from his position, and leapt over its dead comrade in the process. Franklin only had time to squeese one trigger finger pull before the brute leapped at him.

The brute tackled him the ground, it's hands making a grip around Franklin's neck. Franklin's armor would help him against this form of attack. The brute's shields were down, trying to re-establish themselves, but failed to do so. His vision began to fade toward an unrelenting and cold darkness...a black, clad figure appeared behind the brute and aimed a weapon at the brute and fired but the gun jammed and made a click noise instead of the wanted three burst fire response.

The brute turned its head to look behind him and removed its grip from Franklin's neck to focus on this new, now hopeless target.

'Not hopeless, now. You tried to save me, now I'll repay you,' he thought.

The brute's back was now turned to him, completely disreguarding Franklin to meet the other. The blacked edges of Franklin's vision were gone now and he focused on what was going on even more. He unseathed his combat knife and jabbed it into were he the brute's spine was the most pronounced.

It screamed in pain as it went limp and was now paralyzed, never to do anything again, and now it would die a helpless, painful, death. He removed the knife and wiped the blood on the back of the brute were there was no blood.

"Thanks man," the other said, in a familiar-sounding voice.

"No. Thank you. Without your help, I would have died." Franklin cracked his neck from the stiffness that had built up there.

"Franklin, I presume. Judging from the voice, that would be my only guess." The ODST said in a calm, almost playful manner. The armor-covered soldier slowley removed his helmet, showing a black colored man, with a graying beard and gray-edged hair.

"Major F-Fredrickson....?" He asked in a quick fashion.

The fellow helljumper nodded his head. "Tis I."