Cro 'Cylen

"Status report?" Cro barked, standing up from his command chair as bright purple status lights flashed around him.

"Shipmaster, plasma torpedo launchers 1 through 5 are out of commission, hull integrity at 85%, atmosphere venting from the hangar bay." Came the response

"Damn that Cruiser." He growled, clenching his four fingers into a fist "Concentrate all the Fleet's firepower on the Prophet, target the engines so that we may board her."

"Yes, Shipmaster."

"Shipmaster, plasma salvo incoming, taking evasive manoeuvres!" shouted the Pilot, and the ship lurched drunkenly, throwing them all off balance. Cro watched on the display as the tiny blue-white globules closed in on their underbelly, splashing over the shimmering shield briefly, before they flickered and died. The third and final projectile impacted on the bare hull, causing an explosive decompression in the lower decks, violently jerking the ship and setting off multiple alert klaxons in the command centre.

Cro was thrown bodily side-wards, and hit his skull hard on a display; lights danced before his eyes, and he shook his head groggily as two of his crew dragged a third off of the bridge; the limp body of the injured warrior filled him with fresh anger, and he jumped to his feet.

"Fire all torpedoes, and power up the Energy Projector." He ordered.

As soon as his fleet had entered under the Human minefield around the planet, known as Larris to the Sangheili, the enemy had risen to meet them. Initially, their odds seemed fair; their fleet was larger than the Loyalists', and the enemy had been humiliated when one of their Corvettes was destroyed by a Human nuclear weapon before it even entered combat. But as the two fleets engaged, it became increasingly obvious that this was to be a hard-fought battle. The CCS-class Battlecruiser, Enlightened Prophet, had used its larger number of plasma batteries and its two Energy Projector weapons to devastating effect, and a third of the 4th Fleet's ships were reduced to ionised metal within minutes.

"Sir, the Humans are changing their orbit, moving to engage the enemy" called one officer, spitting blood from a gash above his eye out of his mouth as he spoke "Multiple small contacts behind their ships suggest deployment of ground forces."

"Good, when the Humans come within range, instruct them to focus their attention on the escort; we will take that blasted cruiser if it kills me." He growled. "Fire plasma to lower their shields, and then use the Projector to cut right through their hull. I want the engines and power systems offline, but take heed, we do not wish to destroy her."

"By your will, Shipmaster. The destroyer Exodus has been disabled by one of our frigates, and their corvette escort is no more."

He chuckled "Good, just the frigates and destroyer left then, let us see how these humans fare against them. Alert our ground forces to the Human presence on the surface." He gripped the arms of his command chair tightly as his vessel accelerated, powering towards the behemoth cruiser. "Fire plasma!" He commanded, and the entire Fleet launched a volley of superheated blue plasma, which curled and soared through space towards the hulking form of the battlecruiser, trailing a thin blue line behind them. As soon as the volley was away, the Separatist destroyers, frigates and corvettes engaged what little remained of the Loyalist escort. Cro looked at the tactical display, seeing contact light of his ships flicker out of existence as the Prophet span along its axis and fired its energy projectors, thin, brilliant-white beams erupting from them and shooting across the void. They targeted the destroyer Piety and the frigate Crusader. The shields of both vessels failed under the immensely powerful energy weapons, and their hulls disintegrated. After the holy light had faded, the front half of the Piety began its tumble down into the atmosphere below. Nothing was left of the Crusader.

"Shipmaster, plasma impact in 5 cycles" reported the weapons officer.

The entire bridge crew looked at the display as the dozens of plasma rounds impacted on the shields, engulfing the prow of the cruiser in roiling blue clouds. After a tense second, the silvery energy barrier flickered and faded.

"Energy Projector ready."

"Disable her, now." He ordered, leaning forward in anticipation. The weapons officer confirmed the strike, and the entire ship seemed to vibrate and hum, resonating with the massive energy weapon's charging cycle. Another brilliant white beam erupted from the front of their ship, piercing the enemy cruiser's hull like a hot knife through butter. The precise beam cut through layers of armour plating and critically damaged the Prophet's engines, leaving it stranded in low orbit, easy pickings form boarding.

"Excellent!" Roared the Shipmaster "Now, prepare boarding parties, and disable her weapons with another strike. Instruct the rest of the fleet to lead the enemy escort away from the Prophet, towards the humans."

"Transmitting orders now."

Cro watched the display as his remaining ships engaged the enemy, bright blue plasma projectiles and blazing red laser fire criss-crossing space, accompanied by the bright silvery flickering of energy shields draining under the onslaught. Tiny single fighters, Seraphs and Banshees ducked and weaved around in the gaps between the capital ships, firing tiny beads of plasma at each other, dodging the torpedoes and fire from other fighters deftly. The entire mass of hulls and plasma slowly drifted away from the two cruisers, the enemy escort too busy defending themselves to defend their flagship.

"Disable her weapons" He barked, and the control room vibrated heavily again as their Energy Projector charged up, and another, final lance of pure white energy struck the Prophet in her midsection, carving through her hull and destroying her fire control systems with the practised precision of a surgeon's scalpel. Atmosphere vented from the glowing hole in her underside as she drifted helplessly in orbit. The shipmaster knew that if any Huragok were on board, they could repair the enemy's systems relatively quickly; they needed to board her and take control before they could.

"Bring us alongside her, prepare boarding parties, and take the Prophet back from these traitorous fools." He gnashed his jaws in menace to a few approving roars from his bridge.

"Shipmaster, I took the liberty of preparing the boarders several minutes ago, they only wait for us to be within range." Boasted a young Minor called Thral 'Maluuk. This eager soldier had rapidly risen up the ranks ever since he was assigned to the 4th fleet several months ago, and Cro could see him as a Shipmaster himself one day. He endeavoured to be ready for every eventuality, a feature most desirable in an officer.

"Excellent, launch boarders as soon as we are in position, cover them with the close support lasers." He snorted contentedly, elated at the prospect of capturing an intact CCS cruiser. They slowly and carefully drew alongside the massive ship, which dwarfed their own CRS class light cruiser at almost 6 times their length. There was a dull thud as umbilical tubes extended all along the Sanctified Dawn, latching onto the hull of the enemy vessel, the plasma cutters built into the tips of the long clear tubes boring into the metal. As soon as the umbilicals had secured an airtight seal, the boarders rushed quickly across the 30 metre gap and into the enemy vessel.

Cro watched events unfold on displays, watched the 100 Special Operations Sangheili battle their way through the enemy ship, meeting stiff resistance at all turns. His hand twitched, wanting to grab a rifle and join his men, but he knew that they could get the job done.

"As soon as they reach the control centre, alert me" he growled, turning his attention to another display, something interesting was happening in the rest of the battle.

Hall

"Brace for impact!" Hall declared as the Hydra rolled and weaved, attempting to outmanoeuvre the plasma torpedoes launched from one of the two remaining Loyalist Destroyers. One missile managed to find its mark, splashing over the armour plating by the engines, melting through half of the destroyer's two-metre thick Titanium-A layer in seconds. The entire ship rocked as explosive decompressions occurred, and the Captain barely managed to stay on his feet.

"MACs online sir, ready for round two." Athena said calmly as status reports rolled in from the damaged sectors.

The UNSC battle group had intercepted the mixture of Loyalist and Separatist vessels above the equator of Sigmus IV, and immediately two Corvettes and the frigate Phoenix had been lost to plasma, and their charred broken hulls now lay far behind them, along with the hospital ship Nightingale, which scoured the wreckage for survivors. The rest of the ships were heavily engaged with the Loyalist forces, plasma and missile trails criss-crossing space. To complicate things, there was also the large Separatist fleet also attacking the enemy.

"Give me targeting solutions for that damned destroyer" growled Hall. Their first salvo of Mac rounds had just about drained the enemy ship's shields, and their subsequent barrage of missiles had pounded on the exposed hull of the vessel, but it resolutely fought on, venting atmosphere and firing plasma.

"Aye, sir, MAC guns charged, and… firing" She said. The lights flickered on the bridge as the UNSC Hydra's dual MAC guns fired their massive rounds towards the destroyer. The first gun's shot punched a hole clean through the ship, gutting her interior and blasting a sizeable hole through her stern. The second finished the job, slamming into her midsection and destroying the control centre at her heart. The massive kinetic energy of the two shots pushed the remnants into a terminal descent, and red hot lines began to form around the jagged edges of the ship's wounds as she fell into the atmosphere.

Before any celebration could begin, Athena's voice cut through the noise. "Sir, the Chimera has been hit, looks like she took a salvo to her engines, and the enemy is lining up for another shot sir!"

Hall looked on aghast at their sister-ship, a ragged gash cut into the side of the sleek hull, edges glowing. Most of the main engine was missing, only the dim lights of the auxiliaries shone in the darkness. Then he saw the bat-like shape of the other Loyalist CPV-class heavy destroyer bearing down upon the crippled UNSC ship, plasma lines glowing angrily. Instantly he reacted, rapidly typing in commands into his console.

"Sir, I really don't think that's wise…" Warned the AI as the full concept of the Captain's proposed move dawned on her.

"It's not about wisdom…" He muttered "…it's about survival. Evacuate all compartments on the port side, transfer ordinance from port turrets into the magazine or the starboard systems, now."

As the enemy destroyer readied the killing blow, the Hydra leapt forward, racing to the side of the crippled Chimera.

"Tell Captain Akintola to ready his MAC, see what that destroyer has to say to our combined firepower." He ordered as the ship generated extreme G-forces, accelerating rapidly.

The enemy destroyer fired, blue arcs of plasma slowly moving towards the Chimera, a sitting duck. Hall fought against the acceleration as he activated the emergency brakes, a series of chemical-filled modules on the front of the vessel which ignited, shooting jets of flame forward and slowing the ship to a halt. The equally extreme deceleration caused several officers on the bridge to slump in their chairs, unconscious as the blood rushed to their heads. They now lay between the crippled destroyer and the deadly blue plasma, shielding their sister ship with their own bulk.

"All hands, brace, brace, brace!" He yelled as the plasma struck their port side, eating through the plating and heating the ship's superstructure. More explosive decompressions shuddered through the decks, although no crew were in the struck areas. Warning lights and klaxons flashed and blared, but the superstructure held, and they still had weapons control and propulsion.

"Athena" Rasped Hall, having hit his head on the console during the deceleration "Co-ordinate fire with the Chimera, fire staggered salvos of Mac rounds, first ours, then theirs. And launch Archer Missile pods A1 through A10, we're not taking any chances."

"Aye sir, positioning now."

The pair of damaged destroyers swung round, the Chimera having significantly more difficulty in doing so. When the two vessels were aligned, they let loose a devastating barrage of hypersonic ferrous MAC rounds, as well as more than fifty ARCHER missiles between them. The Hydra's slugs impacted on the enemy shields, followed closely by the two projectiles from the Chimera, which drained the silvery shields completely, leaving the hull exposed to the volley of missiles which rained down upon it. The enemy destroyer disappeared behind a sea of detonations, and was no more.

"Sir, incoming transmission from the Chimera, Captain Akintola says he owes you a drink." Athena said, smirking.

"Let's hope I live long enough to hold him to that." Hall responded, sighing heavily. "Alright people, we've still got the rest of the fleet to mop up, let's go."

The dazed bridge crew returned to their consoles, shaking their heads and grinning. The Hydra broke off from its sister ship and re-joined the fight, quickly dispatching two light frigates with the assistance of the Separatist destroyer Penance. It still felt alien to be fighting alongside the organically shaped, bulbous warships, but Hall was grateful for the impressive firepower the Separatist vessels brought to the table.

"Sir, the Marie-Antoinette is hailing us, alerting us to a group of damaged Loyalist warships disengaging and heading towards the Sanctified Dawn." Reported Lieutenant Mallard, pushing her broken glasses up her nose.

"Harrison, fire SHIVAs as soon as they're clear of the 4th fleet's ships, and alert the Dawn." Hall commanded.

"Aye sir, SHIVAs away." Confirmed the weapons officer

Four bright white trails of vapour streaked away from the destroyer, joined quickly by three more from the Chimera's launchers. The trio of enemy vessels, frigate-class, slipped away from the melee, vaporising a Separatist corvette in one co-ordinated attack. They were chased by the seven SHIVA nuclear missiles, which closed the gap within seconds, each missile impacting on a different point on their target vessel. The ships were engulfed in multiple nuclear explosions; all that remained were drifting pieces of hull, warped and twisted by the heat of the nuclear fireballs.

"Next target" Hall said, wiping a single bead of sweat trailing down his forehead "Fire!"

Lance Corporal Sarah "Hawk" Hawkins, 405th Shock Troopers

"Hey, get your head straight Marine" She yelled over the roar of the engines, jamming the Jarhead's helmet back onto his skull. The idiot had been too busy hitting on her to focus on securing his strapping, and as soon as their D77H-PCI Pelican drop ship had hit the atmosphere, she had looked on in amusement as the lanky Private had been bodily slammed into the roof of the crew bay, dislodging his helmet.

"Landfall, T minus 5." Came the pilot's voice over the comms.

She looked around the packed ship through her full-face visor; two rows of stony-faced Marines faced each other across a 2 metre gap, each man breathing deeply and heavily to counteract the symptoms of the concurrent acceleration and deceleration their ship had been subjected to as it fell from orbit into the atmosphere of Sigmus IV. Normally, Sarah would already be breaking through the cloud layer in a single-seat HEV entry pod, firing her retro-rockets and springing out of the metal coffin into a hail of enemy fire. But not today.

Much to her annoyance, the QM on the Hydra had informed her in his own dreary tones that her pod, along with three others, had been prioritised. She would have to hitch a ride to the surface on board a Pelican, with the regular infantry.

She looked across the crew bay to the opposite seat and saw her squad-mate, PFC Ramirez. He was as conspicuous as she was in matte-black vacuum-proof ODST armour, contrasting with the drab olive combat armour of the Marine next to him. He twisted his head to observe the state of the troops, then shrugged almost imperceptibly, inspecting his MA5C Assault Rifle. She checked her own rifle, polishing off a speck of dust from the barrel, grateful for the one-way reflective visor incorporated into her full-face helmet. She didn't want anyone to see how terrified she felt.

The shakiness of the Pelican's descent lessened, and the pilot's voice came over the comms again

"Hey, Helljumpers, LZ's looking a little hot, could use some help on the guns."

Ramirez looked towards her, his own reflective visor giving nothing away, although she knew he was grinning like a child behind the composite plastic. She nodded at him, before pushing the quick release of her harness and standing.

"Affirmative, soften them up with the chin gun, we'll pick off the stragglers." She knew that the powerful nose-mounted gun at the front of the drop-ship could rip through a covenant Phantom's skin easily enough. She climbed over the marines' limbs towards the front of the bay, where she opened the side hatch, letting in a bitterly cold wind and adding another layer of noise to the compartment. She looked over her shoulder to see Ramirez doing the same on the right hand side of the ship, and settled herself behind the controls of the M410 mounted machine gun, strapping herself into the harness before closing the hatch behind her.

She now hung on a short arm protruding from the left hand side of the bulky Pelican, and as her arms naturally settled on the firing and aiming mechanism, her HUD synchronised with the electronics in the turret, displaying a large reticule where the weapon was pointing, as well as showing ammo count and barrel heat.

"Hey, Hawkins, this thing is loco" exclaimed Ramirez over the comms, sounding like a kid in a candy store. "Betcha I get more kills with this diablo than you do."

She grinned "You're on" She pulled the arming mechanism back on the gun with a satisfyingly mechanical clunk, and swivelled round on her seat, testing the gun's range of motion.

"We're dropping altitude, gonna come up over the mountain range to the west of the target, drop down the other side and into the crater." The pilot informed them, and now Sarah could see other Pelican drop-ships dropping down beside them, at least a dozen of them, in a loose "V" formation, soaring over the mountain peaks.

"We're 10 clicks out, get ready."

The formation broke apart as they neared their target, the large covenant base at the centre of the massive horseshoe shaped crater. Even from 10 kilometres away, she could see the purple, curved structures, clustered around a tall building in the centre, which looked like some kind of dock, as a large umbilical tube still stretched 100 metre into the sky. Around the complex was a 5 metre high defensive wall, circling around the buildings and broken by regular placement of raised sniper towers, and one main gate at the northern end of the base.

Their LZ was in front of this gate, in a clearing in the forest 100 metres away from the walls. As they flew over the facility, the chin gun opened fire, firing its 50mm projectiles at supersonic speeds towards the battlements. She couldn't see where the rounds fell, but she knew they would decimate anything they did hit. She heard the chattering of Ramirez' gun, and pulled the trigger, aiming for a group of Jackals in a sniper tower as they whizzed past. She sprayed a good few bursts of automatic fire from her 50 Cal weapon in the snipers' general direction, and they skimmed past the tower before she could see what effect if any she had had.

The chin of the drop-ship suddenly lifted up as the pilot bled speed, decelerating hard above the forest canopy, hovering just above the treetops. The ship swung around and began to slowly descend into the clearing, and Sarah ceased the moment, aiming at the defending aliens on the battlements and squeezing the trigger. She saw Elites' shields pop and fail, blood fly through the air, Jackal shield gauntlets overload, and Grunt methane tanks explode, sending their owners' body parts flying.

It was only now that she noticed muzzle flashes in the trees, and saw enemies she wasn't shooting at fall. So, the ODSTs that had been deployed ahead of the main assault force had made it.

She instinctively ducked in her seat as a plasma bolt soared towards her and hit the bulkhead above her head, leaving the metal glowing and blackened. Damn, that was close. She relented the firing as they dropped below the treeline, and unbuckled herself from the turret, preparing to jump off of the drop-ship as soon as they touched down.

Her comms were already alive with orders and status reports, and from what she was hearing, the covenant really hadn't expected a full assault on their main base; the defenders were in disarray, and the Major was very adamant in taking full advantage of this fact.

As soon as she felt the drop-ship's ramp mechanism whirr into action, she dropped from her position onto the loose soil beneath, rushing around to the lowering ramp and the two lines of Marines standing up ready to disembark.

"Alright Marines, let's go, the Corps ain't paying us by the hour!" yelled a tough-looking sergeant, and the soldiers whooped and punched the air as they sprinted out of the bay, through the forest towards the loudening sound of rifle and plasma fire. As soon as the last private had marched off into the forest, she ducked into the hold and grabbed her rifle, snapping it onto the holster on her back, and then grabbing her prized M319 Grenade Launcher from under her seat, sliding one 40mm round into the chamber before snapping the weapon together, grinning.

"Alright, Ramirez, let's find Captain De Santa" She said, turning around to see Ramirez already shouldering his rifle

"Roger that Hawkins" He responded, she could tell he was grinning again "By the way, I think you owe me a drink, LC. I counted 13 kills"

"Hell Private, I'll buy you a crate when we get back" She said, rolling her eyes and snorting. "Let's move out."

"I'm on your six LC."

She set off at a steady pace towards the objective, weaving in between closely packed deciduous trees, rising and falling with the rugged terrain. Her ankles were going to hurt like hell in about three hours. The Private stuck to her heels, whistling something she vaguely recognised as the theme tune to the popular drama Undercover, and as they vaulted over fallen tree trunks she saw the break in the forest in front of her, and the large collection of ODSTs crouching behind thick trunks and lying in shallow ditches. The ground and trees surrounding them was scarred and blackened with plasma burns, and littered with spent bullet casings.

As they approached, one of the black-suited soldiers looked around at them, the two silver bars painted onto his helmet denoting him as Captain Michael De Santa. A second later, Hawkins' HUD assigned an icon to the Captain's form, showing rank, name etc, and her and Ramirez dove into cover next to him and about 20 other troops, all of whom were trading fire with enemies on the ramparts.

"Hawkins, Ramirez, glad you could join the party." The Captain said, popping up from behind cover to fire a few rounds from his Battle Rifle. Hawkins saw a Jackal fall from one of the nearest sniper towers, and the captain fell back behind the fallen tree, rolling his shoulder. "Those snipers are killing us out here. We were almost into the compound, then they came down hard on us with Banshee fliers and mortars. Been pinned down by those god-damn Jackals ever since. Lost about an eighth of the company on impact, Lieutenant Willis has the rest of us on the southern side. Let's hope he's having more luck."

"Sir, where are our snipers?" Hawkins asked, taking in the tactical situation in the blink of an eye.

"Hell if I know, lost contact during re-entry." Muttered De Santa, shaking his head.

Suddenly, the sharp crack of a sniper rifle echoed around them, and Hawkins poked her head up from the trunk to see a pair of Jackal sharpshooters tumble from on high, purple blood spouting from what was once their heads, needle rifles still clutched in twitching, claw-like hands.

"Well, one of them must be up." She commented wryly

"Well I'll be damned" he whispered, broadcasting on all UNSC channels "UNSC shooter, respond, is that you Phillips?"

The radio filed with static, but the steady rapport of heavy calibre rifle fire continued, downing target after target, clearing the sniper towers within 60 seconds, leaving only those enemies on the wall ramparts still firing.

"UNSC shooter, respond" barked the captain, impatient.

No response came, and no more rifle fire came "Whoever that was, I'm gonna find him after this and shove my boot up his ass for the whole "Ghillie in the Mist" act." De Santa growled. "ODSTs, second squad, suppress those hinge-heads, Miller, Ryan, Ramirez, Hawkins, Caparzo and first squad, you're on me, get ready to move fast. We're gonna run right up to the wall, into the perfect defilade. Who's got the C12?"

"I do, sir." Called a private from behind a tree trunk

"Toss it here, Jackson." De Santa said, catching the satchel brimming with high explosive. "Hawkins, you're the fastest runner here, take it." He held out the bag to her, and she took it, slinging it around her shoulder.

"Alright, we all set to go?" He asked, turning to the dozen troops lined up behind him, ready to charge. "Last one to the wall buys first round."

Hawkins took deep breaths, tightening the satchel around her and sliding the action of her rifle back, loading the first round into the chamber. "Ready."

Jacob

"Good shooting Jo." Jacob said from their position high up in a tree. He and Josef had ascended a thick-trunked specimen 20 minutes prior to the ODSTs' arrival, and had excellent views of the insertion pods as they broke through the cloud layer and slammed into the earth.

When the ODSTs had been pushed back by covenant air support, Jacob had taken the role of spotter as the younger Spartan had expertly slotted a dozen enemy snipers, resting his rifle on a branch. When the hail came in from the ODST's CO, Jacob and Josef had been slowly descending the tree. Sticking to ONI Standard Operating Procedures, they had ignored the hails, no sense in compromising operational security any more than necessary.

"Sab, Rachel, the cavalry's here, with a little help." Jacob said. He and Josef had spotted a larger force of Marines grouping a little further into the trees than the ODSTs, at least four company's worth, plus half a dozen Warthogs and a Scorpion MBT. With one group of ODSTs from the North, the other from the East, and the Marines readying for an assault from the West, this base wasn't going to be here for much longer.

"What's the plan sir?" Asked Rachel as he hit the floor. She was crouched next to the trunk of the tree, rifle pointed down at the ground.

"The central spire is sitting right above the control centre, so we need to get in there. You'll be happy to know that stealth is no longer a priority. We're closest to a group of ODSTS, who, if their radio chatter is any indication, is going to blow the Eastern wall well before the Marines get organised. We could tag along with them, go in guns blazing, and hope that there's not a whole lance of Sangheili waiting for us with swords drawn." He looked around at the others, Josef was nodding slowly "Or, we try and climb the Southern wall while the hinge-heads are busy with the others, make a beeline to the control centre, silently as possible. So, which one is it going to be?"

Sabina swung her shotgun around absent-mindedly "I'm all for the frontal assault, they already know we're here, so stealth isn't going to last long, the whole covenant is looking for 'demons'. Plus, if we go for stealth, our offensive capabilities are relatively limited."

Josef nodded, stowing his sniper rifle on his back "I'm with her, sir. We go in, hard and fast, with the ODSTs. We give them an entrance, then split off and head for the control room. The Marines will back them up."

Rachel looked up from her position "Sir, I can see the potential of a silent strike, but it does seem to be an exercise in futility. Plus, those troopers could use all the help they can get."

Jacob nodded. "Good. Ready up, we'll scout around the treeline and say hello to our UNSC brethren."

Less than 60 seconds later, the four Spartans were silently and slowly approaching the group of ODSTs crouching behind various fallen and upright trees. All of their black helmets were angled towards one soldier, a Captain judging by his insignia, and the trooper next to him had an olive green satchel slung across their shoulder.

"Alright, activating IFF tags now." Jacob said, and suddenly the whole company turned to face their direction, weapons raised. They couldn't see the Spartans yet, but the bright yellow blips on the motion sensors displayed clearly their presence. The UNSC E-band lit up with unfamiliar voices;

"Where are they?"

"I got no shot"

"Invisible diablos"

"UNSC personnel coming out, hold your fire." Jacob stated calmly on the open channel, and motioned to the others to holster their weapons. As one, the four armoured warrior slowly stepped out from the shadows, hands by their sides.

"Mierda!"

"Spartans?"

"Jesus H. Christ"

All the troopers recoiled slightly, shocked by the presence of the tall warriors, rifles lowered, helmeted heads tilted and the captain depolarised his visor, looking equal parts shocked and delighted.

"Well, I'll be damned, four god-damn Spartans. Which of you is the CO?" He asked, gruff and to-the-point

Jacob stepped forward "That would be me, Captain De Santa, Chief Petty Officer Jacob-209" he said, reading off of his HUD. "Now, shall we do something about this big ugly covenant base over there?"

De Santa grinned, and Jacob thought that if the man could've, he would've started smoking a Sweet William cigar popular with all officers. "I thought you'd never ask Spartan."