Do a Barrel Roll

If this is Operation UPPERCUT, then the Covenant is giving us a left hook.

Dogfighting in Reach's exosphere, Noble Six at least had enough restraint not to voice his misgivings out loud, all of which stemmed from being in a craft that he never thought he'd have to use. Involvement in the Sabre Program was one thing, but actually using one of the experimental space fighters to defend Anchor 9 was another.

"Another wave of Seraphs," Jorge murmured from the co-pilot's seat. "Bearing at-..."

Six drowned the Spartan-II off, having already seen the swarm of starfighters, along with their Banshee escorts. While the Covenant fleet as a whole had pulled back out of the MAC guns' range, they were still willing to send starfighters and dropships in force to take Reach through a different method. A method that the defenders of Anchor 9 were struggling to deal with. And as he and the battered squadron of Sabres headed towards the latest enemy wave, weaving in and out of plasma fire while giving out his own, Six was no exception.

"I can't do this..." the Spartan-III murmured, finally letting his thoughts translate into actual speech. "There's just too many. They're going to-..."

"Do a barrel roll!"

...what the?

With his starfighter's shields having been stretched to breaking point, Six had taken his fighter out of what was once a maelstrom of plasma and bullets and was now a repeated dance of dogfighting in space. And with an outsider's view, he could see that another class of fighter had entered the fray, specifically fall of them. Fighters that were tearing into the Covenant craft with green lasers, but whose elegant design was unlike any UNSC ship he was familiar with.

"Um, Jorge?" Six asked blankly, unsure as to what to make of the spectacle before him. "You seeing this?"

"Yeah..." murmured Noble Team's heavy weapons grunt. "Heard the radio too..."

Noble Six remained quiet, but his mind was racing. He knew what a "barrel roll" was in principle, but how was that related to a starship that was as un-aerodynamic as the Sabre. And who had connected him in the first place? One of the new starfighter pilots maybe? Pilots that his ship's HUD was now marking as "Star Fox"?

"Unidentified fighters, this is Noble Six," said the lieutenant into his radio, confident that the pilots could handle some chatter whilst sending the latest Covenant wave fleeing. "Please identify yourselves."

"This is Peppy," answered a voice on the other end, the same one that had told him to do a barrel roll in the first place. "All systems go."

Noble Six blinked. "Peppy?" What kind of callsign was that? And why in the name of all reason was an anthropomorphic rabbit appearing on his screen.

"A rabbit?" Jorge asked. "A rabbit's flying the-..."

"Actually, I'm a hare," said the...thing. "Peppy Hare."

I...see..."

Actually, Noble Six didn't "see" at all, or at least in the context in what that phrase meant. True, he had literally seen a...hare talk to him and a group of four starfighters (called Arwings apparently, going by his ship's HUD) tear into the Covenant, but how much of that he actually believed was something else. And with the Covenant capital ships making another surge to the MACs from one direction, and a starship that was neither human nor Covenant in another, believing what was before him was becoming harder all the time.

"It's about time you turned up Fox," came the voice of Admiral Roland Freemont, commander of the Epsilon Eridani Defence Fleet. "You're the only hope for our world."

Feeling a slight twinge of annoyance, Noble Six kept his eyes on the approaching ship, the one whose hull matched his HUD's designation of "Great Fox." He would have liked to think that the Spartans represented the greatest hope for Reach, not a squadron whose numbers included a talking hare. A squadron where one of its starfighters passed by his Sabre. And whether by instinct or dislike, Noble Six fired.

"Hey Einstein, I'm on your side!"

"Six!" Jorge exclaimed. "What are you doing!"

"Um...I don't know."

"I can see that, dumbass!" came the voice of the pilot. A pilot whose mug briefly appeared on his screen.

Six's anger increased tenfold-bad enough that Jorge was giving him flak, but now he was being lectured by a blue bird with an attitude problem. And while he quickly shot down a group of Banshees with another burst from his lasers, it did nothing to dilute the lieutenant's impression of the group.

"Um, Jorge?" Six asked as he turned his Sabre to face the oncoming fleet. "Did you know about this? About these...animals?"

"No, nothing," said the veteran softly. "But if there's one thing this war has taught me, it's not to question a free lunch. Take what help you can get and ask questions later."

"Right..." murmured the Sabre's pilot. "If there's any of us left to ask questions that is..."

At this point in time, it was hard to see whether that would be the case. The Covenant fleet was breaking up, one group to attack the remaining UNSC ships, the other to take out the MACs. The defenders were being stretched to their breaking point to cover the front, but at least they had raw firepower on their side with the defence platforms. And, of course, the giant warship that was blasting Covenant attack craft out of the sky left, right and centre.

"Can we win this?" Noble Six asked to no-one in particular. "Can we-..."

"Don't worry, Slippy's here!"

Noble Six immediately became worried after that. Talking hares and falcons were one thing. Talking toads were another, especially when they started shouting "whoa, help me!" repeatedly to their squadron leader. A leader who, of all things, was a fox.

"Thanks Fox," Noble Six heard the toad say as his superior saved the falcon from a Seraph. "I thought they had me."

They did...Noble Six thought to himself as the falcon was saved. A falcon who expressed his gratitude by exclaiming "gee, I've been saved by Fox, how swell."

And we thought the Covies were jackasses...

Sighing, Noble Six formed up with the rest of his battered, but thankfully human squadron. A corvette was approaching Anchor 9 and with its cannons focussed on the larger capital ships, it was up to the Sabres to take the smaller vessel out.

"Alright," Six said to his fellow pilots. "Line up and-..."

"Aim for the open spot!"

Six sighed. "Not now Peppy, I-..."

"Destroy the two exhaust pipes!"

"What? What are you-..."

"Shoot the tentacles to open the core!"

"What tentacles?"

"Okay, now shoot the switcher!"

Growling like a dog, Six switched off his radio. This day was bad enough without anthropomorphic animals giving him lectures. Unfortunately, Jorge had kept his on, allowing the lieutenant to here "whoa, help me!" again.

"Alright," said Six to his squadron again. "Let's..."

Six drew off, his senses seemingly slowing down time for him. He'd been so focussed on the corvette, he'd ignored the chance that even smaller craft might be around. Craft such as the Banshee that had just popped up in front of him, its fuel rod cannons glowing. At this close range, not even the Sabre's shields could withstand that.

This is it, this is it!

...fortunately, the Sabre didn't have to. Because thanks to burst of laser fire from Peppy's Arwing, the Banshee was now nothing more than space junk.

"Peppy?" Six asked, turning back on his radio. "Did you just...save me?"

"I'm used to it," said the hare simply. "I'm careful when it could be a trap."

"I guess..." said the Spartan-III, now sure what that meant. "But, I mean, if there's anything I could do to thank you, I..."

At first, Peppy didn't answer. At first, Six thought that he'd flown off to engage yet more Covies. But eventually, Peppy made his request. A request that the lieutenant was all too willing to grant.

"...do a barrel roll!"

A/N

The idea for this came from a YouTube viewing of Halo: Reach gameplay, specifically that of the Sabre. One of the users commented on it doing a barrel roll and...well, one thing led to another.

Also took some reference from Star Fox in Iraq by College Humor. Homage to...homage in a sense.