Retribution

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own "Halo," "Transformers" or "Stargate-SG-1" or any of the characters. They belong to Microsoft, Bungie, 343 Studios, Hasbro, Takara and MGM.

Just to be flying again was amazing. Lt. Col. Cameron Mitchell didn't care it was a transport; a Pelican was just fine. He was doing a job that needed doing, and he was glad to do it. Not that there were many survivors to pick up, but there were some. He was flying pickup for any UNSC personnel in the area. His orders were to find any stragglers and get them to safety. ONI was pulling up stakes at the Groom Lake facility and he was supposed to head over and help with the evacuation once he checked for survivors from an ODST drop. He was picking up one trooper's transponder, but it was moving away from his location. Fast.

"Trooper, this is UNSC Pelican Tango Alpha Niner Three, do you read?"

And over the radio came a familiar voice.

"Mitchell?"

He frowned.

"Graham?"

"Is this a secure channel?"

"Give me a sec," Mitchell said. "It is now. What's up?"

He was breaking protocol, but didn't care.

"You're tracking my transponder, correct?"

"Yeah," Mitchell said.

"Are you by yourself?"

"Looking for your unit, actually," Mitchell said. "Hang tight. I can be at your location in about 30 minutes."

A half-hour turned into more than an hour. Graham was beginning to think something happened, but he was more than relieved when Mitchell radioed, saying he'd reach him in five minutes. The Pelican landed, and Mitchell disembarked, battle rifle in hand.

Graham was standing in front of a rock formation, helmet off, hair mussed and sticking in all directions, face smeared with sweat, tears and blood.

"I have something to show you. Something. . .important," Graham said.

"Make it fast," Mitchell said. "I've gotta get back to my battle group. You know what's going on don't you?"

"Coventant attacking Earth? I know. Not high on my list of priorities right now. I told you this is important," Graham said. "Come out."

Hot Rod stepped around the rock formation, out into the open.

"Son of a bitch," Mitchell said, jaw dropping. "Which one are you?"

"My name is Hot Rod," he said. "You're not surprised?"

"Only a few of us here would know what you are," Graham said. "I can't explain now, but Mitchell, we've got to get out of here. "I made a deal with him, but you're going to have to come with us."

"Can you fit in the hold?" Mitchell asked.

"If I crouch down," Hot Rod said.

"If you can reconfigure to something a little less inconspicuous, we can fly you wherever you want to go," Mitchell said. A Warthog would be easy, but there weren't any close. "Revert back to your protoform and I think you'll fit. We've got to get going."

88888

Daniel stared at the information on his tablet. With Earth under attack, no safe havens were left. He wondered where they were going, and what constituted "safe." Sam believed in the work ONI was doing, but he had his doubts. They were being used, and there was no way out.

He sighed, going back to his data. The Ancients, the first evolution of humans in the Milky Way Galaxy, had found a way to leave, paving the way for the spread of Origin, and later humanity's fall in war against the Forerunners. The Ancients didn't have to face the Flood, and were free to evolve and spread. A way out existed, but the UNSC refused to utilize it, letting billions die.

ONI said the stargates were a liability-if the Covenant found out about their existence, the war was over. At the moment, it looked as if humanity had already lost without the revelation of that knowledge. Earth was going to fall, and nothing could stop it.