Chapter 2: Halo
The Covenant dropship passed through the ring's atmosphere without problems and began to slow its descent to allow for gravity's control. It maneuvered towards a small structure made out of a metallic stone-work that the Covenant hadn't recognized when they originally found this strange derelict habitat. Two large prongs, closely resembling those on the dropship, extended skyward. They too were made out of the peculiar material.
With a low, throbbing hum, the ship hovered above the ground and opened up its doors. Oriné 'Fulsamee, along with his entire surviving squad, stepped out onto the grass of the ground. He looked around and took in the sight: the structure was surrounded by solid fir trees, sturdy boulders, and a large, lush field that extended for more than a hundred of the human's kilometers, ending in a swooping mountain line. Covenant soldiers scurried about, bringing supplies, weapons, and medical equipment to and from dropships.
The Elite closest to him, his friend known as Yarna 'Orgalmee, took a large whiff of this air and exhaled happily. "This air," he said, "Is fine air."
Their conversation was interrupted by the rhythmic thump, thump of boots on grass. They turned and met the gaze of the gold-armored Elite. The color was meant to instantly reveal the rank of Commander, and he had an impassive look on his face. The three Elites raised their hands in the respectful greeting of a superior, and the Grunts scattered. The Commander returned the salute, and walked straight up to Oriné.
"Are you the son of Ship Master Orita 'Fulsamee?" The golden warrior asked gruffly.
"Yes, Excellency," Oriné replied calmly.
The Commander eyed the younger Elite thoughtfully, and then grunted in satisfaction. "You and your squad are to take a rest of three units, then report to me on the balcony. What is the status of your Major?"
The blue-clad Elite clicked his lower mandibles together. "We presume he has been killed, Excellency. He left us to pursue his objective, Excellency." The Commander snorted, then waved them away. Oriné signaled to his teammates and walked into the structure for some rest.
At the pre-ordained time and place, Oriné walked up to the golden-clad Commander. He saluted again, and received the same.
"At ease," the Elite said, and Oriné did so. He knew that rank meant everything and that if he were that high in level, he would also demand the same compliance. The Commander nodded, and then turned to face the field.
"More humans made it out than we had anticipated, and they are now scattered throughout Halo," the Elite started. "Our forces are currently finding them and executing them as we see fit, and we have captured their Ship Master. All seems well.
"However, we have received reports of a human clad in a special armor, one of the many we've seen at the major victories of the humans'. Your objective was to find and kill that human on that ship. What went wrong?"
Oriné didn't know how to answer. What could he say? They had done everything according to the briefing they had received before they left. He finally spoke: "I believe the problem was that they were more willing to use him than we expected. Our plan depended on the fact that they would only use him as a last-ditch effort, and they obviously didn't consider him that."
The Commander once again nodded in approval, turning to face the young warrior. "Very wise of you to notice, warrior. Very wise indeed. Your father must have taught you a great deal…"
"He taught me much before I went to the academy, Excellency."
The Commander grunted and turned to face the setting sun. "Yes, I can tell. I suppose it would interest you to know of the humans' progress?"
Oriné was taken by surprise. A Commander was offering him intelligence? Was there a plan that involved him and his squad? He finally managed, "It would interest me greatly, Excellency."
The Commander inhaled audibly before beginning. "Their rate of advance has startled us somewhat, but it is to be expected. Not long after their ship began to head for Halo, our scouts reported that a number of them had already made it to the surface and were regrouping. A small group of them took one of our bases in Sector 43, and we can only assume that they intend to use that as a headquarters.
"They have already managed to rescue most of their people and organize themselves. We have no idea what to expect at the moment, but we presume they can be beaten down.
"During the battle in space, one of our cruisers took a beating. It has landed for repairs, and we need all the help we can get putting it back together. Your unit will travel to the site and assist with repairs. Understood?" Oriné had somehow gotten lost as to the fact that what was originally an intel report turned into a briefing, but he knew the objective all the same.
"Yes, Excellency." The blue Elite said as the light faded from the sky.
"Good. Assemble your team and be ready to move out. Night will be here soon."
The dropship gently soared through the night, the planet the humans referred to as Threshold illuminating the ground with a creepy, orange glow. Inside, Oriné considered what his options were: a commander was getting friendly with him, and that could easily lead to a promotion to Major. Rurut, the Grunt in the next deployment cell, jittered nervously.
"What' wrong now?" Oriné asked with evident exhaustion. The three-unit rest didn't seem that great anymore.
"I've got a bad feeling," the little Grunt whimpered. "I just keep thinking… something horrible is gonna happen… or already has."
The all-ship intercom crackled to life as the pilot Elite opened up the channel. "We've just received word from the Truth and Reconciliation. It was attacked!" It took a moment for the comment to settle in before all the units broke into chatter. The dropship was full of his fellow squad, plus four Jackals, small almost bird-like aliens that utilized external shielding units for protection.
"I'm taking her in," the pilot said again. "But it looks like the docking bay is in serious disrepair. We'll have to land on the surface and use the gravity lift to get in." The ship swerved and hovered for a moment before dropping a few meters and opening up the doors.
As the team stepped out, they got a good look at the carnage. Blood from Elites, Jackals, and Grunts alike were mixed and spread all over the terrain. Rocks served as places for bodies to slump against and quietly bleed to death. A recovery team was already there, piling up bodies into anti-grav carts and hauling them away to be buried.
"Look at that!" Yarna exclaimed, pointing down the small cliff face at the gravity lift, where a team of Grunts struggled to lift a dead Hunter from the pad and another was dis-armoring another Hunter corpse to allow for easier carrying. Everyone's eyes were wide open as they moved down the trail to the lift.
By the time they reached the lift, the Jackals of the unit had broken off to mourn the loss of a personal friend they knew. Oriné and Yarna were approached by a Spec Ops Grunt, who held out his hand as if to stop them.
"Alright, who're you and why do you think you have access to this site?" the little form babbled. At first, Oriné was overcome by a feeling to smack the little Grunt upside the head for trying to pull rank, but thought better of it after noticing the black armor.
"We were sent by Commander 'Quarmee," Oriné said. "He said you needed help with repairs, but we never…"
The Grunt cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Okay, that's enough. Go on ahead, but if you have a weak stomach, stay behind." Several of the Grunts cowered back, only Rurut and a Major Grunt stepped up behind them. They moved onto the lift, and felt like invisible hands were pulling them up into the belly of the ship.
Once inside, they were greeted by yet more violent scenes. The blood of all races of the Covenant, except Prophets of course, smeared the walls, floors, and even the ceilings. Down one hall were two more Hunters, one collapsed on a puddle of his own blood, the other nailed to the wall by the throat with one of his spikes.
The Major Grunt tried to take a step, but slipped on a large number of shell casings. Oriné picked one up and examined it, figuring it was from one of the human assault rifles. More were scattered about the cargo bay, ranging from sniper rifle to pistol. Several cargo modules were burst open, many of the ones carrying plasma grenades spilled out and looted. Another clean-up team was hauling bodies away, among which stealth Elites were present. As they proceeded through the halls, they found more evidence of a great battle. In one cargo bay they found two Wraith tanks exploded, and the shrapnel from said tanks embedded in wall conduits and fellow Covenant warriors.
Finally they made their way to the docking bay that the pilot said was too damaged to land in, and they found out why. Plasma scoring ravaged the walls, bullets pock-marked the floor and ceiling, dead comrades hung over the edges of railings and ledges, their blood making temporary waterfalls. Entire sections of floor had been utterly annihilated from what looked like cargo modules loaded with grenades exploding. On the highest level, Oriné could see what looked like a Covenant dropship having crashed into the side, and then flown away. A tell-tale drop of orange blood dropped from the top, and the Major Grunt couldn't suppress a nervous yelp any longer. And that was just one side!
The other didn't look much better, and there seemed to be more casualties. None of the bodies had been dragged away, so one could see exactly who died and in what manner. Jackals, Grunts, and the occasional Elite were strewn about, slumping against modules, walls, and even missing body parts. Another tank lay in ruin, and next to it a Hunter's body, its back peppered with bullets. On the far side of the room was its bond brother, dead and then cut in half by the closing of a door, its entrails hanging out messily. The Major burst out into sobbing, and Rurut comforted him.
"It's horrible, isn't it?" An Elite from one of the clean-up crews walked up to them, dressed in the white armor of his division. "They were attacked with devastating force by a human strike team. I'm not sure how they got through all the defenses, but they did, and rescued their Ship Master."
Oriné couldn't say anything. The Elite went on: "These were special forces, I'd imagine. They even managed to take out this ship's Ship Master while he was on the bridge! A Spec Ops team is looking into the whole incident, but there's no better explanation than the fact that humans got in and killed just about everyone who stood in their way."
The younger warrior managed to look up at the upper levels, and met the eyes of a Spec Op Elite, who turned and walked away to take care of business elsewhere.
"I have to get back to work," said the white-clad Elite and then he strode away.