"Is there even a point anymore?" She asked herself evenly, her entire voice box cracking as she looked out of her monitoring system. None of her operators replied right away, instead being forced to look out of the cockpit and remaining silent. Lt Drafter lingered on her seat for a long while, letting her dark hair fall messily to her chest; it hadn't been looked after for a while, the effects of stress could really do damage to some.

"Ma'am should we send search and rescue pelicans?" An operator finally questioned, speaking up from the lack of noise in the entire cockpit. Hi voice was heavily strained, revealing how far they had all been pushed to this point.
"No point" The Lieutenant spoke softly, her eyes still heavily etched onto the outside of her ONI controlled Battle Cruiser. A spasm of fire and lightning lit up the entire space around her vessel as the large Shuttle 'Fist of Judgement' continued to be bombarded with an endless supply of high beam voltage.

The Flagship had been dormant for over an hour now, leaving it vulnerable to the enemy's high powered weaponry beam that had been nicknamed 'the Glassing' by many soldiers of the remaining ships of the original UNSC fleet. Another plumage rocketed throughout the entire reminisce vessels, spewing plasma and flames in all directions as the 'Fist of Judgement' lost all forms of barriers and shields. Then without warning, the entire massive shuttle imploded in a huge array of metal, fire and lightning that spanned inwards before releasing the entire radiational out-leak into the cosmos of space.
"Damn it!" Drafter swore and slammed a fist down onto the side of her chair, now they had lost the one ship that may have been able to match the Thunder in combat. So what was left for her to command?

A couple of worn Frigate's with the Battle Cruiser 'Red Dusk' to lead them. The Lieutenant turned back to her operators quickly, the explosion till rocketing from the outside of her ship, "Get me contact with all surviving captains, give me status on our fleet integrity and a communications channel with Serin Osman of the ONI directive base on Earth."

The crew scrambled into action quickly, grabbing onto the monitor consoles and opening up communication relay systems; the huge mushroom cloud of the Flagship was starting to clear up; revealing two large segments of the shuttle to fall down to the charred remains of Genesis II like meteors falling from heaven.
"Get all vessels ready for battle; I don't want a single Frigate left out there without support or means to escape" Drafter spoke roughly, commanding control over the entire fleet with simple outranking of every other man and women.

"Affirmative ma'am" The head operator replied without pause before speaking back, "By the way, we have a covenant vessel on approach."
"What kind of vessel are we talking about?" The Lieutenant spoke hesitantly, unsure if the news would lead to all of their deaths. If the covenant flagship known as the 'Infamous Fury' had teleported to their location; then her efforts would do absolutely nothing to protect them from absolute destruction.
The operator looked back down to the monitor he had been surveying, then turned his head and spoke back to her, "A lone phantom, current status unfamiliar but approaching head on"

Meanwhile
A dark sense of malice and content ran through the thought process of the Royal Zealot as he crouched in front of his master. Muscles inside his forearms clenched tightly in anger and his mandibles twitched in fury, as he lowered his heavy armoured head down he could almost smell the arrival of the San Shyuum. The Prophet of Storm looked down upon him aboard his high throne of a chair, satisfaction being hidden behind the mask he had etched upon his heavily frowned and sceptical face.

"You have failed me Zealot" The Hierarch drawled slowly, allowing his voice to carry the inevitable words of doom across to his servant, "The human escaped from your control, I thought you could restrain one filthy worm but it seems you are still too incompetent to issue even that."
Mort'ang bowed his head lower, his armoured shoulder piece dropping as he realised the failure he had done to himself and to his honour, "What is to become of me Hierarch?" He spoke slowly, unsure and nervous if the prophet would decree an immediate execution to prove an example of the Royal Zealot.

"Your fate is to be placed under command of a Shipmaster on board the Assault Carrier 'Reckless Bloodshed', I expect your allegiances to this cause will be as fundament as your honour to the Thunder." The San Shyuum triumphantly spoke, allowing his own satisfaction to slightly be revealed across his facial structure, "Now leave us"
Mort'ang nodded slowly, stepping up and walking away from the prophet in complete subservience and shame, although he was pleased with presence of his life; the lack of honour that he was forced to live with would be a problem for him.

The Hierarch watched the elite leave until he had physically gotten out of his viewpoint, then he positioned his shrivel throne around and looked up to the massive black Sangheili that stood in his presence and had watched, from a distance over the entire conversation.
"Your resolve to protect is inspirational" The prophet spoke sarcastically, angered with the Harbinger's resolve to always protect him from even his own servants even against the San Shyuum's own wishes.

"The actions of dishonoured Sangheili can often be unpredictable" Harbinger replied without apology or willingness to bow down in front of his master, "And if he knew of how the human really escaped, then revenge would be etched upon his mind."
"Then it was blessed to send him of under the commands of the 'Reckless Bloodshed', his presence would be something barely missed." The Prophet replied smartly, not caring over the fact that he had manipulated and used the zealot for his own amusement and to prevent other officials from doing the same."

"So what winds come hither now Hierarch?" The black Sangheili warrior asked quickly, unsure on what the Thunder would do next.
"I wish to send the Sangheili general Bremat in command of the 'Reconciliation of Lies', he seems worthy of the cause and fruitful to the journey" the Hierarch spoke plainly and crudely, issuing orders and commands as if it were a simple second language to him, "And as soon as the fleet has fully mobilized and is ready for slip-space travel, I wish to meet the gods."