A/N: Yeah, yeah, I'm slow. I blame the 200 butterfly longcourse I swam. Sorry. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Microsoft, Bungie, or 343 Industries. This is for my enjoyment and, hopefully, the enjoyment of others. I do not receive a profit.


Invasion


Day Three of Required Civilian Reintegration

John flexed his hand, ensuring that the suit still worked. He was just lucky that storage bay eight had a MJOLNIR Mark VI Suit Placement/Removal Device. It felt good to be back in MJOLNIR armour, even if his was scarred, scratched, and too large for just one person. John was too used to two people in the suit, even if it was skin-tight.

Kelly tested the COM. "Chief. You there?"

"I've been honourably discharged. Not Chief anymore. But yeah, I hear you."

John heard static for a moment before Linda came on: "We know that you need some time, John, but come with us; we have all the comforts of a genuine military barracks."

John almost grinned at that before following Kelly up to Linda and the Warthog. With military forces neutralised, the escape from the facility was easy. Kelly sprinted ahead, paving the way to her insertion point and John followed behind, just a little slower.


Day One of Exodus

A transport Warthog with four SPARTANs screeched to a halt inside a large garage. A pair of Warthogs, one with a normal LAAG turret, and one with a gauss cannon, were parked next to the transport Warthog. John stepped off of the back of the modified Warthog, as did Linda. Fred jumped out of the driver's seat and Kelly hopped out of the passenger's side.

The four walked into the house and headed downstairs to the armoury. As Fred stepped into the Suit Placement/Removal Device, courtesy of the SPARTAN-IV program, he said, "John, we know that you will need some time alone, try to sort through your problems, so don't worry about that."

Linda pulled off her helmet, revealing her striking red hair and unlined face. She didn't look any older than when John had last seen her. Fred looked fairly similar underneath his own helmet, which was quickly removed by the machine. The biggest change was a slight weathering of the face; if possible, Fred had even less fat on his face. Linda spoke. "We have an weapons depot here. Feel free to take some weapons and ammo. Take our ship and go where you need to, do what you need to. Just remember that we'll be here waiting when you get back."

Kelly grinned. John just knew she was grinning. "Follow me."

Kelly lead the way, still in full MJOLNIR armour. Once she opened the door to the rest of the house, she removed her own helmet, cradling it in her arms. "Stay here as long as you wish-we have several spare rooms. Everything is reinforced for SPARTANs; we can jump off the stairs in full armour and not worry about denting the floor. Our ship is up these stairs."

As Kelly turned and started climbing a rickety looking staircase, John pulled off his own helmet and asked, "So why do you have a spaceship?"

Kelly turned to answer. Noticing how John eyed the stairs, she laughed. "John, these stairs are perfectly sturdy. Haul your ass up here." An infinitesimal moment later, her blue eyes hardened and she screamed, "That's an order, soldier." John reluctantly started to climb the steps before Kelly continued. "We pitched in and bought the ship-really, it's more of a space yacht-with our pensions just in case we ever decided to go cruising the stars; visit Reach or Harvest. We'd have to get a slipspace drive for it, though."

"They were glassed," John stated bluntly.

Kelly was quick to respond. "I guess you didn't hear. Terraforming is underway."

John looked up at her as the duo climbed the stairs. "Terraforming is very limited. One of the only successful planetary engineering techniques humanity has achieved so far is ecopoiesis, and I'm fairly certain that putting plants onto a ball of molten slag that the Covenant vitrified during the war won't make it habitable. We use already habitable worlds for a reason, Kelly."

Kelly snorted and stepped off the stairs. "The Elites-the ones that aren't part of the Storm Covenant-have all those Forerunner toys, so when a human activates the more interesting parts, all sorts of new toys are discovered, including a terraformer. I don't know how it works, but it does. Reach is mostly livable again."

There was silence as the two SPARTANs climbed a second set of stairs to the roof while John contemplated Kelly's words.

The roof overlooked a leafy pasture. Dappled light filtered through the trees dotted around the house. No other buildings were within view. As beautiful as the scenery around the mansion (for the house was indeed a mansion) was, John was more attracted to what sat on the roof. A ship clearly designed for pleasure sat on the roof. John recognised it as a Galatea-class luxury cruiser. Unlike most human ships, it was fairly organic in design. Made out of dark-almost black-steel, it was shaped like a flat fish; an elliptical body with two long, sweeping wings grafted smoothly to the sides. There were no dorsal fins, and the tail was simply a pair of elegant, stylised thrusters. Stenciled on the side was the name of the ship: Farewell to the Undying.

John lightly rapped the side of the ship, resulting in a soft thud. "Farewell to the Undying?" he queried.

Kelly nodded sagely. "SPARTANs never die," was her only explanation, but it was plenty for John.

John slipped on his helmet and walked to the armoury. He took as much as he could carry and loaded it onto Farewell to the Undying. Fred and Linda followed him out onto the roof, staying there with Kelly as he lifted off and headed to space. The SPARTANs never smiled or waved. They just stood there watching until the ship was long gone from their vision.


Day One of Exodus

The ship had no weapons and no slipspace drive. John would have to find a better ship, preferably one that could be flown by one person. John doubted that a civilian ship would willingly visit the places he would need to. But first, he spent a few minutes adjusting himself to the controls.

After a few minutes, John was doing flips, barrel rolls, and had even figured out just how much forward thrust was required to come to a complete stop. At that moment, a message crackled over the civilian radio. "Attention all ships: sensors register numerous unplanned slipspace ruptures. This is believed to be a surprise attack. Civilian ships must return to dock. Military ships, brace for action; we have an invasion on our hands."

John was just about to curse his bad luck when he realised that the invading ships must have slipspace drives. He headed out of Earth's orbit, monitoring the chatter. "Ships hiding behind Jupiter . . . warming up super MACs . . . assume defensive position delta . . . Infinity turning about . . . most civilian ships in . . . Wait! One is heading toward the slipspace ruptures."

A new voice, one that John recognised immediately, came onto the COM. "Attention Farewell to the Undying. This is Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood, and I order you to return. An invasion force is heading our way. We don't need any civilian casualties."

John moved his gloved hand to the COM panel and hit the reply button. "With all due respect, sir, I cannot obey that order. Don't worry; you won't have any civilian casualties." Lord Hood seemed to recognise the voice, because he didn't say anything further. John just punched the controls and headed toward Jupiter.

John piloted Farewell to the Undying around Jupiter's many moons, some, like Callisto, far larger than others. After a little fancy flying, John landed on the Jovian side of Io, the fifth closest moon. Unlike the other three inner moons, which, admittedly, he could land on, Amalthea was also big enough to hide on, but without Cortana to run the calculations, John didn't want to risk landing on a chunk of rock that orbited the largest planet in the Sol system in just over eleven hours. So he settled for hiding behind Io.

John didn't have to wait very long. Covenant ships began rounding Jupiter a short moment later, likely once all of the ships had emerged from slipspace. John waited for the first few to pass before powering on the engines, just a bit. John wasn't sure if there was a god up among the stars somewhere, or just his usual luck, but he prayed. He prayed to the gods of his namesakes, the gods of the first Spartans; to the Christian God he just barely remembered his mother-his birth mother, not his real mother-teaching him about; to the Librarian that was the goddess of the Covenant-especially to her, ironic as that seemed, because he knew that she was (or had been) real, alive, tangible, and that she was watching out for him.

In any case, the Covenant didn't notice John's engines against the backdrop of the stars. And their own engines. John carefully flew Farewell to the Undying near one of the ships. The timing would be tricky, as would the flying. John hoped no one looked out the window while he flew next to the ship. Without weapons, he couldn't get inside the ship, so he'd have to wait for the shields to be taken down some other way. An electromagnetic pulse from a nuke or a glancing blow from a MAC shot would be needed because a direct shot would core the Covenant ship and John's ship couldn't slip through the tiny distortions of the energy shield when the plasma batteries fired. But he also needed Farewell to the Undying in order to keep up with the Covenant.

After only a moment of flying, the ships were in range of the MACs. Technically, they were always in range, but the Covenant was now at the distance where dodging would be impossible. The lead ship splintered, having been pierced by a chunk of ferrous metal with a depleted uranium core going at an impressive percentage of the speed of light.

Whoever commanded the invasion clearly hadn't anticipated that result. Chaos ensued as the Covenant ships tried desperately to dodge the broken ship and next set on incoming fire. John rolled and swerved to dodge both ships and the fire they tried to attack Earth with. Unfortunately for them, they couldn't control magnetic fields from so far away; the plasma dissipated before getting to Luna.

And then John had an idea. A crazy, stupid, risky idea. But really, which of his ideas weren't? He flew Farewell to the Undying right up to the bridge of one of the nearest ships. To his surprise, it was manned by Brutes. He hadn't seen any Brutes in the Storm Covenant, so he supposed that this was a separate faction entirely. Admittedly, that would make his plan far easier.

One of the Brutes looked up and snorted in shock. It growled and the Brute with silvery hair responded. It gave a guttural roar and the ship's point defence lasers aimed, all of them at once. John hated to ruin Farewell to the Undying, but he wouldn't be coming back for a while. Maybe Linda, Fred, and Kelly would forgive him.

The lasers began to cut through Farewell to the Undying's hull. John used the ship for cover as he ejected, grabbing only an assault rifle, pistol, C-12 satchel, and jetpack. He waited a moment to get clear of the wreckage before activating the jetpack. John flew to the origin of the lasers, relying on fancy flying just as much as his shields. Once inside the rather sizeable gap in the shields, John stuck the C-12 on the metal. He quickly broadcast, "This is Sierra-117. Do not destroy this ship. Repeat, do not destroy this ship." Although there was no response, MAC shells began firing a little further away from his position.

Using the metallic clamps, John crawled hand-over-hand until he was a fair distance away. John depressed the detonator and watched as the side of the ship lit up. The blast was contained and amplified by the shields, which had sprung back up once the lasers had finished eating Farewell to the Undying.

John hand-walked back to the ragged hole. He jumped in and felt his gravitational centre shift from almost nonexistence to the floor of the ship. He landed in a crouch with a solid thud. For now, the hallway he was in was clear. The blips on his radar, however, suggested that that would change very quickly. John drew the .50 pistol and crept behind a brace in the wall.

Peeking around the corner, John saw a small clutch of Grunts in EVA suits coming to investigate the hole he'd made. Perfect. The little guys scared easily, listened to whoever had the biggest gun. And John had the biggest gun. He leveled the gun and pulled the trigger smoothly, watching as a Grunt fell. John began to aim at his next target before the first Grunt landed. The next Grunt fell, and John felt a pang of some sort, dulled by the metallic layers around his heart. John realised that he had been listening for the sounds Cortana played, the birthday party whenever he shot a Grunt in the head. John shook his head and pulled the trigger again; the third Grunt died.

The final Grunt was running in circles, hands thrown up in fear. John emerged from hiding and leveled his assault rifle at the Grunt. He chinned the translator and started speaking alien. "Pull up a map of the ship and mark the bridge for me, or else I'll blow your brains out. The Grunt stopped, looked around a moment and ran over to the nearest console. It tapped a few buttons, causing a holographic map of the ship to pop up. A blue blinking dot represented John's position. A green one showed the bridge. John marked the location on his HUD, taking note of the shortest route. He thanked the Grunt and peppered its midsection with bullets, carefully avoiding the brain.

John reoriented himself and set off at a swift jog. For the first minutes, he didn't meet any enemies. Just empty hallways. So when John came to the first hangar, he was understandably wary. John stepped forward cautiously, and the doors opened with a soft whoosh. But none of the patrolling Covenant noticed. Jackals patrolled on the upper walkway, energy shields held at their sides. Grunt technicians pushed boxes around on the floor. Engineers floated above, repairing Phantoms and Spirit drop ships for a few Brute overseers. There were no Elites or Hunters in sight.

John considered sneaking past, but without Active Camo, the Grunts, dumb as they were, would most certainly spot him. John fingered a plasma grenade he'd collected from a dead Grunt and threw it. The nearest Brute roared in surprise before superheated plasma stripped him of his shields and atomised him. As the Grunts and Jackals ran over to see what was wrong, John took the opportunity to neutralise them.

When his field of vision was clear, John stepped out of the doorway and into a vicious firefight. The Grunts and Jackals quickly adjusted their aim while the Brutes leapt to the floor, spikers in hand. A pair of Engineers stopped what they were doing and began casting shields for the Covenant. John mentally groaned and began to shoot, subconsciously sidestepping plasma, needles, and spikes when he could. John advanced through the room, eventually swapping his magnum for a needler. The Covenant never stood a chance; the Demon had earned his nickname for a reason.

As John knifed a fleeing Grunt, a lone Brute looked around and realised that it was all alone. It did the sensible thing. It charged. Time slowed down. John flashed an arm up barely in time to block the Brute's blow. His arm went numb. The Brute rammed its fist into John's stomach. His shields collapsed, but rather than trying to stand the blow, he let himself be flung backward. This time, John was ready. As the Brute charged for the second time, John tensed his legs. The Brute roared, and he jumped, twisting in midair. The Bute tried to check his momentum, scrambling backward. John reached his legs out and wrapped them around the beast's neck. As he fell, the neck twisted with a resounding crack. A pool of blood leaked out of the monster's neck and John stepped over it heading for the exit.

But word had spread of an intruder, and the hallways were choked with Drones, Jackals, Grunts, and the occasional Brute. John spent most of his ammo chasing Drones and trying to hit Jackals cowering behind their shields. However, all their effort came to naught, and at the end of every gore-filled hall, John, wrapped in death and swathed in the aegis of demons, stood triumphant.

At last, he reached the bridge. The doors slid open, revealing a silver Brute dressed in highly ceremonial-although perfectly useful-black and red armour. Gravity hammer in hand, the Brute stood at attention. When one of his comrades attempted to stand up as well, the chieftain whirled and snarled, "No, Zevannus. The Demon is mine. He revealed to us the lies of the San 'Shyuum, and for that we thank him.

"But this, this is why Ullumaeus brought our pack together. We shall kill the Demon and win honour among the pack. The snivelling Sangheili shall grovel at our feet once our fleet has killed both the Demon and the Arbiter, and the rest shall join them. We shall be the leaders of a new age! We shall not quest for transcendence; the Covenant is abolished. We quest for power, for we are the Valkyries! We escort all those who stand against us onto the Path of the Great Journey!"

John suspected that his translator was having trouble giving direct translations for some of the words, notably this Brute-led Covenant "the Valkyries". However, he didn't have time to dwell on it-the chieftain was charging. John rolled to dodge the hammer and checked his weapons. His pair of spikers were down to their last rounds. The plasma pistol John had picked up was down to twenty-two percent charge, barely enough for a single electromagnetic pulse burst. A plan began forming in John's head. It was risky, but, with a little luck (which John had plenty of), it would work.

He began overloading the plasma pistol as he jumped out of the way of the chieftain's next rush. He held it while the Brute turned, and fired it when the ape moved to charge him. The green bolt caught the beast in the chest, and John saw its shields flicker and die. He tossed the plasma pistol away, scooping up the discarded spiker and pulling the other one off his back nearly simultaneously.

Then John rushed the charging monster, catching it off guard. After all, who would expect even a demon to attack a gravity hammer wielding beast? That moment of disorientation was short, but plenty for John. He dropped to the floor, using all his momentum to slide underneath the monster. John emptied both spikers into the Brute's groin before jabbing the bayonets on the guns there as well, where they stuck, quivering. And then John threw his last grenade at the Brute, sticking it in the back.

The very angry bridge crew was easy to deal with once John had obtained the chieftain's gravity hammer.

Stepping over the last Brute carcass, John began punching in vectors and coordinates, trying to remember what he'd seen Cortana do. Halo 04 was gone, Installation 05 had no secrets, and John didn't know the location of the Ark or of Requiem. So he plugged in the symbols he'd seen aboard the Litch. After all, Gamma Halo had been the resting place for the Composer, essentially an A.I. matrix generator. Perhaps the answers he sought lay hidden in the tranquil oceans or verdant forests of a superweapon floating in deep space.

A circular rip in the fabric of space appeared, and John's ship drifted through it.


A/N: Yeah, that's right. Two factions of neo-Covenant, and they both hate each other. Gameplaywise, dual wielding is back, you fly the ship, run through the halls starting once you get the HUD data from the fourth Grunt, and kill up until you enter the bridge. Once the chieftain rushes you, you get to play until all the Brutes are dead.

If anyone has noticed, I slip Valkyries into my stories a bit, but they are really neat and fit the Haloverse's affinity for mythology quite well.

Remember, tank beats everything (so naturally, there will be a tank level). Except reviews. Please note any discrepancies in the story, whether they be grammatical, factual, or logical. Thank you, and have a great day. We appreciate your business.