Halo 2: Act 7: Attack of the Clones
Pursuit (Part 2)
"I have 801 kills...and I let you go. Think about it." These words, spoken by that heretic, had left Vamar'e pondering the humans' decision. The human obviously did not bulk at the kill. And then there was the fact that Vamar'e had let him go. He had felt the urge to blast the fighter to pieces...but he had held himself back. The drive to kill had left him and, strangely enough, he was left feeling...empty, like his life held no meaning. As he steered for the hangar of the nearest CCS Battlecruiser, the Divination, he found himself thinking heresy; was this war worth it? He felt out of place and different, he found that he wanted peace and quiet. He stepped out onto the Seraphs' gravity lift and floated downwards to the deck. The Elite tending to the Seraph's systems looked towards him and gave a gruff nod of respect. "Hail brother. How was the slaughter?" Vamar'e looked at the other and gave a nod in return. "The battle was splendid and I delved in the blood of many humans today. I have business I must attend to brother." He laid a hand on his craft. He had grown fond of her during his many battles. "Tend to her well. It would not do to have her fall apart beneath me in combat." He walked down the long hallways and came to his quarters. Opening the doors, he stepped inside. He sidled over to his bed and laid down. Perhaps sleep will calm my mind. Closing his eyes, he fell into a fitful slumber. Little did he know that the Force had a path planned for him. One that would take him to greatness. Little did he know, too, that his greatest enemy would also become his greatest friend.
"Ahsoka, slip and dip." Anakin and Ahsoka's fighters moved in tandem, evading plasma fire, twisting and rolling so close to each other that Anakin could count the stripes on Ahsoka's head tails. "Snips, split." Abruptly, they split formation, the 10 Seraphs chasing them moved to follow and found their fellows in the way. Eight Seraphs crashed headlong into each other and it was only by chance that the other two managed to survive. They split and followed the two Jedi. On even terms, Anakin thought. Numerically, that is! He grinned. "Skyguy, you need to pick up the pace. You behind by 5 kills. You're as slow as a Rancor sometimes." Anakin keyed his comm. "And you have a tendency towards verbal abuse," he said even as he and Ahsoka flew almost directly at each other—almost. They flew by each other, a fingers length from the other. With their fighters agile and thin design, they barely completed the maneuver without crashing. Their enemies, bulky by comparison, had no chance. They collided with a flash of blue fire that consumed both craft totally. Forming up on each other, the unstoppable pair of Jedi penetrated the cloud layer. Anakin keyed the Courageous. "Obi-Wan, we've entered the lower atmosphere. Start landing the troops and get the larties down here." Larties was slang for the LAAT/i Gunships that had become the staple of the Republic Army. "Roger that. And Anakin, try to be careful." "Yeah, yeah, gotta go, bye!" They had just dove below the clouds and gotten their first glimpse of the planet below. And the first thing they saw was a host of Banshees swarming to intercept. "Uh, Master?" Ahsoka sounded uncertain and even he had his doubts. "Hey Snips, you got any ideas?" "Me?! You're the Master and I'm the apprentice! I'm supposed to be learning from you!" "Well, Obi-Wan says a good Master listens to their apprentice. I'm listening Ahsoka!" "NOW YOU WANT TO LISTEN?!" "Well--" The comm crackled. "This is UNSC Longsword Flight 218. You new guys want some help?" Even as the gruff man spoke, 18 Longsword multi-purpose fighter-bombers dove from the clouds directly above the Banshees, tearing into the swarm with 120mm Cannons and missiles. Soon there was nothing but blue smoke and fire and spare parts. The Longswords formed up around the two Jedi Starfighters, acting as escorts. Anakin tapped a couple of keys on his dashboard then spoke. "Thanks for the assist Longsword Flight." "No problem Yellow. Thank Fleet Admiral Lord Hood. He ordered us to shadow you and assist if needed." "I'll be sure to drop him a thank you card." The first of the gunships had broken cloud cover...followed by another...and another...then came 28 more in formation, then another 34. The UNSC pilot whistled. "You guys are serious." Anakin laughed. "Those are only the start. Say goodbye to the Covenant, they've overstayed their welcome." The words had barely left his mouth when two Acclamator-class Assault Ships dropped through the clouds and headed for the outskirts of New Mombasa, the only part of the mega city that had survived. "What the hell is that?" "Thats an Assault ship. It can carry 16,000 troops plus accompanying armor." R2 tweeted at him. "Uh...what was that?" The UNSC pilot asked. "That was my astromech droid. He helps with navigation and repairs. What was that R2?" The droid tweeted again and blatted at him. It was berating him for not paying attention to two things: to him and to the group of enemies inbound to their position. "Ok, Ok, I'll pay better attention next time." R2 bleated and then blew a raspberry. "I will too! I promise I will." The droid was quiet for a second then beeped an acceptance. "Ok, we've got enemy fighters inbound. Let's go get 'em!"
UNSC Marine Micheal Felps tossed a frag grenade into a group of grunts. They peered at the round, shiny piece of metal curiously...it exploded, scattering them in a shower of blue blood. The Brute commanding them looked over for a second, only to feel something nudge his foot. Looking down, he saw a metal sphere next to his foot. His eyes widened. He roared in fear and anger and, as the grenade went of, in agony. He fell, mortally wounded. Two Elite Majors dove out of cover, laying down precise fire with their plasma rifles. Two bolts hit uncomfortably close to Mike's position. He decided to duck before his head got blown off. As he took cover and reloaded his Battle Rifle, his British friend Archer Townsend crouch-ran over to him and said, "Mate, we are screwed. Totally screwed. We've got some Elites flanking us and we lost the last of our bloody tanks. We are totally--" "Yes Archie, I get the picture, thanks...whats that you got there?" Archer looked down. "Oh, this?" He pulled out a blue ball. "I dunno. Picked it off a dead grunt." "Lemme get it," Mike said as he snatched it out of Archie's hand. He primed the plasma grenade and threw it over the wall. He and Archer chanced a glance over the wall just in time to see it stick to the wall of a broken building. It detonated as a Ghost zoomed past, killing the grunt driver. The Grunt's body slumped backwards in the seat, and his arms also drew back, activating the throttle. The Ghost turned ponderously into the group assaulting the Marines position...and Mike's jaw dropped as the Ghost plowed straight through the massed Covenant soldiers. It finished its' wrathful journey as it smashed headlong into a Shade turret. Both exploded in a shower of blue sparks. Some precise fire from the other Marines sent the Covenant survivors scurrying for cover. They exchanged wide-eyed glances. "Mike, can you do that again? And again?"
Micheal found himself looking through the optics of a Rocket Launcher as he aimed at an Elite laying down fire on Archer's position. Okay Mike. Think lucky. Just think lucky...no pressure. He fired. The launcher kicked back against his shoulder as the rocket leapt away. The Elite didn't see the shaped charge coming, but he did see bullets depleting his shields. He deployed a deployable barrier...just as the rocket reached his position. It hit the edge of the shield and ricocheted upwards at 75 degree angle into a building. And to compound the problem, a quartet of Wraiths decided to turn the corner. Damn it. But as the rocket exploded against the building, the vibrations snapped the already fragile foundations. The 24 story building trembled, then sank an inch as the foundations sheared from the building's base. The shockwave caught the combatants attention and all ceased fire. The lucky Elite looked up as the building loomed over him. It tilted slightly and shifted a little to the right. Then it stopped. The Elite sighed with relief. Then a a pair of fighters above, one brown and one yellow, broke through the clouds. The sonic boom cracked through the air like a whip...and finally tipped the building off it's precarious axis. It shifted and toppled over the Covenant formation. The Elite barely had time to cry out before he was buried under tons of concrete and steel. Micheal stared at the carnage laid before him in amazement. Archer scrambled up the hill of debris that they had been using as cover to stand next to him. "Mate, play the lottery. We could both use the money. Bloody hell."
