Author's note. I started this story awhile ago maybe even a year and with close arrival of Halo 3 now at hand I felt now would be a nice time to have something to keep my attention from it.

Disclaimer. I do not work in any way with Bungie Studios. This is my rendition of what I think might have happened during the Master Chief's absence. Thanks and enjoy the continuation of A Helljumper's Flight

Outside Human City Designated D-74

9th Age of Reclamation

Aboard the Frigate, Bold Reckoning

Bold Reckoning Command Bridge

Valrune entered the door to the command bridge of the Bold Reckoning. The ship had managed to break through the primates orbital defenses and arrive planet side to support the ongoing search for the Holy Guide. Earlier Valrune had left the ship brimming with eagerness to strip the Sangheili of his rank and then complete the task before him. But now he was being escorted to the bridge as a failure to the ship's mission. Two fellow Jiralhanae clad in the ceremonial armor of the Hierarch guards stood next to him as they escorted him through the bridge.

Although the Jiralhanae had been officially named as the Prophets guard as well as the new commanders there was still an abundance of Sangheili manning the ship's command center. But he was proud to watch as his cohort were still in control and ordered the other beings around like the filth they were. The three warriors finally passed the command center and then entered the communications chamber. Inside a minor Prophet sat hovering above the ground in a floating chair as he reviewed a data screen. The beings motley skin was heavily wrinkled from years of service under the hierarchs.

Now his face was heavy with a bit of anger and almost remorse and he only acknowledged Valrune's presence when he heard the Brute's helmet clink to the floor as Valrune bowed low and deep. "Incompetent fool, you have let those filthy primates once again grasp a sacred artifact." The Prophet shouted at the Jiralhanae, as he entered. "You're lucky that I don't have your own brethren slay you down this moment." Valrune didn't raise his head and then replied. "If you have brought me to this place to kill me then why don't you just do it!" at these words the Prophet looked at one of the Brutes. The soldier paused for a second and then slammed the butt of his plasma carbine into Valrune's neck.

Valrune buckled under the heavy strike and then quickly raised his head back to the Prophet. "You are a very formidable soldier commander, but what I have brought you here to carry out may very well be ahead of your skills as well." The Prophet turned to a projector and brushed his hand against the machinery. One of the ancient holy rings appeared before the collection of beings. "You recall that the ancient stone also held a map to another sacred ring do you not." The Hierarch asked Valrune as he finally was allowed to rise. "Yes noble Prophet, I heard that the Prophet of Regret was murdered on the very ring you speak of." The old Prophet tipped his head slightly and then quickly turned back to the Brute. "An unfortunate turn of events yes but Regret decided to rush things but he will be remembered as he once was but this new matter is not related directly to Regret. Something happened on Halo, perhaps it was the changing of the guards and then a possible insurrection but the Hierarchs have given the order."

The Brute looked up to the other being with cautious eyes. He glimpsed at the two Brutes beside him and then spoke once more. "And what orders are those noble Prophet." Valrune asked quietly unafraid of any further blow that could be dealt upon him. "One that I believe all Jiralhanae would rejoice in," the Prophet turned around in his grav chair and then once again spoke. "the complete and utter execution, of all the traitorous Sangheili."

New Mombasa

11.1.2552 (Military Calendar)

Heading East on the 811 Freeway

5th Warthog in 88th Armored Division Convoy

Sleep never came easy for a Spartan. It seemed ever since the war had started their had scarcely been a moment when any of the mysterious cohort could stop to admire their work, there was always a new battle a new threat a new enemy. Now Fred watched as the seemingly peaceful sky lit up with explosions and fierce streaks of lightning. He faintly hoped it was just natural weather effects but he knew that the battle had resumed and that once more the outgunned outmanned human fleet would once again have its hands full. Of course the night was not all bad, it seemed in the rush of things the Covenant had not managed to bring enough thermal gear and the column had managed to avoid them for the time being. The Spartan realized to take solace in such little effect was the sign of impending doom and that soon enough he would once more hear the hiss of plasma discharges and the roar of banshees but the night time would offer peace to the tired soldiers for a few more hours.

PFC Pearce lay on the flatbed of the Warthog reminiscing of a past lost to him and the other marines. A past where no one would have considered any enemy could even gaze upon Earth's lush green lands and blue waters. Now amidst roughly a hundred men and women the smell of sweat and body odor was one of the few good things about being behind enemy lines in a city already mostly destroyed during an attack made the previous week. It seemed so long ago when he had been in stasis aboard the UNSC Destroyer Patton with nothing but his thoughts. Now he continued to clean his BR55's barrel making sure when the time came that he would be ready and willing to do all that he could in the defense of humanity.

Mourning came all too soon for the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers of 3rd Company, as the first rays of sunlight cascading through the ruined cityscape also brought waves of banshees. The battle hardened turret gunners easily swept through the first wave but now on the fifth attack the vehicle column had pushed it into overdrive pushing onward to their eventual destination.

Fred and Will barely paused for a second between firing their weapons. Fred at the back of the Warthog firing storms of rounds at the incoming banshees never had to stop to acquire new targets while Will had to continuously realign his missile launcher to lock onto the next enemy. The banshee pilots did error a lot in favor of the humans. Like the day before the pilots all seemed a little inexperienced in their vehicles but the Spartans were willing to let that slide. Even the marines who had taken a horrible beating when the brutes had charged in at their last stand easily worked through the aerial attackers making the most of the combine turret and missile defensive capabilities. Within 2 hours of the first assault the ruins of waves of banshees were littered in the wake of the armored column.

New Mombasa

11.1.2552 (Military Calendar)

88th Armored Division Lead Vehicle

Near Camp Bastogne

"Alright marines everyone out we've reached the rendezvous." A voiced squawked over the com channel as Pearce took in his surroundings and ordered his fellow marines out onto the hard gravel road. Over the loud speaker harsh oldies music blared along with the occasional announcement from the CO. As he took off his helmet Pearce ran a hand through his short hair and then wiped the outline of grime from his face. Just as he was getting accustomed to some of the new sights his com unit sounded. "Private Pearce report to the HQ immediately." Leaving Olfren in charge of finding food and supplies for his team he hurried off to the largest building he saw. Once he entered an MP saw his uniform tag and ushered him into the command station. Inside two of the Spartans stood at attention while the major and an officer that Pearce wasn't familiar with sat at a steel desk. "PFC Pearce reporting sir!" he snapped a sharp salute. The major was the first to respond.

"At ease Private," Pearce nodded and stood at attention. "Pearce this is Brigadier General Jellir, he's in charge of Camp Bastogne and for the moment in charge of the next step of our operation." The General moved over to the marine. A tall man probably around 63 Jellir seemed every bit as imposing as a Spartan minus the armor but it was his eyes that set him apart. Icy blue eyes stared at Pearce and the marine wondered just how much damage the general could do even just unarmed with a stare let alone a weapon. "First off I'd like to congratulate you private on surviving the engagement at the plaza. Both the major and the chiefs here tell me that at no time did any of NCO's quit or give quarter to our enemy and I'd just like to say Earth needs men like you more and more in these dark times. He went back to the desk and withdrew a tiny box.

"For your bravery and your continued vigilance I award you the Star of Valor." The officer placed the black box into Pearce's hands with delicate measure and then continued. "Also you are promoted to Sergeant effective immediately. This conflict has seen a lot of brave officers go but I'm sure that you shall make all of them proud." He rested a hand on Pearce's shoulder and then continued.

As he returned to his desk he went on turning to the Spartans. "Now then gentlemen let us get down to business." He held up the mysterious rock that had cost the lives of so many good soldiers almost a little to carelessly in Pearce's mind. "We have stolen something the enemy holds very dear, lets get to work making sure its not the last thing we steal from those alien bastards."