Chapter 1: Reveille
The sleek purple cylinder drifted through space, driven by a small engine that glowed blue behind it. It cut through the cosmos, seeming to bend and twist the reality around it to make up for its lack of finesse. Around it, bolts of blue plasma seared through space and struck the large, clunky human ship, the Pillar of Autumn. Its hull buckled under the stress, hairline fractures ripping through its outer hull. All the while the shiny canister inched across the star-speckled void towards its target. And its occupants grew ever itchier.
Inside the smooth vessel stood eight of the grandest assemblies in the universe, a group of aliens known as the Covenant. Two of them stood tall, towering over the other aliens at 8'6", one in a brilliant metallic blue armor with a midnight blue under suit, the other in a much duller red but equally dark jumpsuit underneath. They held in their hands a strong, fully-charged plasma rifle, polished blue, shining with beauty and grace rarely found in a human weapon. It was divided into two pill-shaped halves, held together by a curved surface of metal, with only a trigger to interrupt the smoothened surface. Behind the two Elites stood the six other aliens, stubby and comical, standing only about 5' and clutching their plasma pistols in fright.
Oriné 'Fulsamee was the blue-armored Elite, and he chuckled to himself. He had trained his whole life for combat, having been in five battles with the humans. Their leaders, the great Prophets, had formed the Covenant from different species for one purpose: the crusade to wipe out the existence of humanity, for it offended the Gods. And the young but powerful warrior was prepared to give his life for just that purpose. The other Elite, his senior officer, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned behind them at the frightened little Grunts. They shared a chuckle, stopping when they heard human-fire whiz past their craft.
That was close, Oriné thought, wiping his brow. He flexed his jaws, opening and closing them in anticipation. He had four of them, like his entire race. Two were placed where a human's lower jaw would be. The other two were on the side, ready to crush anything that he got into his mouth. All were powerful, and easily tore through food that other alien races found tough and inedible. He took another look at the Grunts that stood behind them. They wore large, bulky armor suits, the back rising up into a spike to house the cold generator. A small mask ran from the spike to a mask located on the front snout of the creatures. They came from a frigid planet, and thusly, they could only breathe frigid air. The two directly behind Oriné and the Major were dressed in red armor, but the four behind them were in dirty orange armor, armor that had seen many battles and wearers.
Suddenly the capsule lurched, signaling connection with the target. Oriné tensed up, bringing his plasma rifle higher up to his chest. A small computer panel right in front of the Major bleeped and began processing human code, flashing alien symbols on the screen. It continued to beep and flash until there was a pinging sound, and a set of numbers on the panel flashed green. A panel in the front slid out of the way, revealing an air-lock door. That too yielded, and another door, this one of human design, obstructed them. It slid open in confirmation of the code, and bared the interior of the human ship to their wielded weapons.
"Move!" shouted the Major, stepping out in front of the main group and taking the lead. No sooner had he poked the majority of his upper body out the opening than gun fire erupted at the opening, a bullet grazing him across the chest. Sharp waves flickered across his suit, and he grunted in discomfort. He motioned them back, putting them back in the cramped Covenant shuttle.
"Okay, so they were expecting us," he said, rubbing the area that the bullet had gone across. "No big deal. Rurut, do you have those grenades?" A small orange-armored Grunt nodded vigorously and withdrew a small rounded device. It was slightly hemispherical, but much more squashed. It was polished silver, with a small blue line running down the center. The Major nodded and grabbed the device. With a slight squeeze, the line turned orange and the device flared blue, the azure flame licking the air. The Elite pulled back and threw the device into the hall, bouncing it off the far wall and straight into the position of the human Marines. One screamed a warning, and then a large blue explosion erupted, the screams of the creatures being cut short by their own deaths.
Oriné smiled. He loved his job.
They stormed out of the pod, sweeping their guns around the hall and making sure everything was clear. They heard a hissing sound from the airlock door next to them, and turned to see fellow Covenant walk out. Two Minor Elites and six Minor Grunts stepped onto the ship, and one of the Elites took a whiff of the air and snorted.
"Human air is filthy," he said, "It is no wonder that they must be exterminated!"
One of the Grunts snorted. "Yeah. No methane! How can you stand it?" The other Grunts nodded, but the Elites paid no heed.
"We have a mission to accomplish," the Major said, bringing his rifle up. The rest of the troops readied their weapons and made sure they carried a full pack of grenades. "We must find a certain human, one who is top-notch in fighting. He is responsible for the deaths of possibly a thousand of our warriors, and reports say that he is on this ship."
Several of them were taken aback. Thousands? How was that so? The Major continued: "He wears a special armor that can withstand our fire for a period of time, so we must be quick. If he is asleep, do not hesitate to fire: he won't if he wakes up. Are we ready?" Oriné and his fellow Elites bellowed, and a few of the Grunts raised their guns triumphantly, but most of them shivered. Why did they get the feeling that most of them wouldn't have the chance to celebrate a victory?
On the bridge of the Pillar of Autumn, Captain Jacob Keyes eyed the tactical data on the large screen before him carefully. Reports were flying through the bridge like lightning, buzzing those who gave and received them, but Keyes was impervious to such matters at the moment. He was studying the peculiar ring structure: they had made a jump from Reach, and somehow or another ended up here. The Captain didn't believe in fate, but he knew that there must've been a higher power at work.
"Cortana," he said calmly, and the figure of a woman, purple with data streams running across her body, appeared.
"Yes, Captain?" she asked, knowing full well what he wanted.
He sighed, but didn't take his eyes from the view screen. "Awaken our 'guest' and get him ready for battle. It's time we started winning." Cortana nodded and data flew across her holographic form.
"He's already waking up."
It didn't take long for Oriné's group to run into more human resistance. The firefight was brutal, and already two of the Grunts were dead, one of them from a gaping chest wound and the other from a small puncture through his head. But Oriné couldn't worry about them; he kept the rate of fire on his plasma rifle up but not so much to overheat it.
Finally, as the last Marine fell, the hall was clear and the group of 14 remaining soldiers continued their bloody march. Oriné was well-versed in the human language, and could easily read the signs painted on the floor and walls that gave away the directions to the cryo-bay. As they approached, the Marines seemed to fight harder, but the Covenant continued to prevail.
After what seemed like a weeks search, they arrived in Cryo-2, the rumored location of the human with the special armor. However, upon arrival, they found the pod open and empty. The Major did his best to hide his rage and frustration but the younger Elite could easily detect the strains on his mind. Oriné circled around the bay, careful of any traps, while everyone but the Major left the room and fanned out to help their comrades in eradicating the humans.
Suddenly, the Major stood upright and withdrew his plasma rifle. He felt as if something was staring right at his neck, something up high. He turned around and got an eyeful of his objective: the human, dressed in a special armor, stood in the observation deck of Cryo-2, staring down through his mirrored visor, seeming to mock the Elite.
The crimson-armored Elite shouted in rage and fired a few shots at the window. The human didn't even flinch as the plasma splashed against the viewport, made of some strange material, and just turned and ran out the opposite door.
"We have to kill him!" The Elite yelled, and took off out the door. Oriné tried to follow, but the adrenaline motivating his commanding officer was too much. As he stumbled out into the hallway, he met with the sight of his two fellow Minor Elites and seven slightly confused Grunts.
"What's with him?" Rurut squeaked, staring down the passage that the Major obviously left through.
"The objective," Oriné growled in response. "He saw the objective, and is planning to cut him off before the human can escape." The team exchanged glances, and were about to follow when they heard a shout from behind them. They turned around to find another Major beckoning to them.
"We have to pull back! This ship might explode soon!" As if to enforce that fact, the panels behind them exploded in a shower of flames and sparks, causing the door to automatically lock it down. Without any way to follow their commander, they followed the Major and found a Covenant insertion-craft still docked. They piled inside and punched in the codes to return to a Covenant cruiser. The door ahead closed and they felt the force of the small vessel being jettisoned from the human ship.
The Elites and Grunts breathed a collective sigh of relief, and awaited the return to the ship.
The Major and the Grunts awaited the human in a corridor with two of the human life-pods left. They had been attacked by Marines, and were in the middle of fending them off when they heard a tell-tale click behind them. The Elite turned to see a fragmentation grenade land at his feet. He was able to avoid the brunt of the explosion, but his shields were gone. He turned around to see the Grunts he had taken with him spread over the corridor. Boiling with rage he turned to fire in the direction that the grenade was thrown from.
He only got a short look at his objective before the 7.62 mm armor-piercing shells sailed through his helmet and head, splattering his blood and brains against the far wall. As the cold metal passed through the other side of his skull, he had a moment of enlightenment: he wouldn't win.
The Elite's body crashed to the floor with surprising intensity, and the Master Chief paused only a second to admire his handiwork. Then he hopped over the barricade and made a mad dash for the last life-pod, helping a wounded Marine in as he went. A few seconds later, the craft was gone and rocketing towards the ring-world.