AN: it took me ten chapters, but we're finally there. All AU elements I added in the story, up to and including the war with the Batarians and the Covenant attacking the Citadel species, were necessary for me to get to this point.
~0~
Citadel Standard Calendar: 2178
UNSC Military Calendar 2547
Thel 'Vadamee relieves his sister as the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice for a planned joint-assault in UNSC-controlled space.
…
UNSC AI Cortana enters operational service.
Project MJOLNIR is initiated.
…
Conflict within ONI erupts when a Dullahan reveals that she cannot sense the soul of Preston Cole in the afterlife, suggesting that Preston Cole is still alive. Due to the sensitivity of the matter, this information is not revealed to the public.
Codename: SURGEON is assigned to investigate this matter further.
…
Asari colony Lessuss is glassed.
…
Actias-Thorax Industries, a major shipbuilding business ran by Mothman and Honey Bee Liminal families, contracted 2500 Quarian engineers from the Migrant Fleet for the shipyards at Reach and Tribute. The desperation for cheap and skilled workers takes precedence over the stigma usually related to Quarian individuals.
…
UEG colony Skopje is glassed.
…
Lacking reconnaissance abilities to map Covenant territory for potential Citadel-UNSC led counter-attacks, the UNSC and the Turian Hierarchy collaborate on an engineering project co-sponsored by the Citadel Council: an experimental Frigate with a stealth system, the UNSC Normandy.
…
Salarian colony Erinle is glassed.
…
Salarian Councillor Valern decides that the best way to counter the Covenant is to combine UNSC technology with technology from Council races. Plans for an experimental Destroyer with a stealth system are underway.
…
The UNSC scores a strategic victory on Anhur, defeating Batarian forces occupying the planet. Economic facilities evacuated from systems lost in the Covenant Theatre are quickly placed in-system. Permission to construct at least two Orbital Defence Platforms is granted.
...
A second Batarian attack on Elysium lasts for three minutes before resulting in a complete UNSC victory. Three HORNET nuclear mines are detonated amidst the Batarian fleet as they emerged from the Mass Relay, resulting in near-total casualties. Surviving crews quickly surrendered and the Batarian warships were taken in to be repurposed for the war effort.
Zero UNSC casualties were reported.
~0~
Citadel Standard Calendar: 2179
2548 UNSC Military Calendar /
July 17th
0000 Hours
Ensign William Lovell logs a large gravitational anomaly inside Slipstream space in the Sigma Octanus Star System.
…
0300 Hours
Commander Jacob Keyes, commanding officer of the UNSC Destroyer Iroquois, realizes that the large mass is in fact a Covenant Task Force and moves to engage.
…
0330 Hours
The UNSC Iroquois destroys all Covenant vessels save for the carrier using a manoeuvre later known as the Keyes Loop. The carrier launches landing craft toward Sigma Octanus IV, then retreats into slipspace. UNSC and Hierarchy reinforcements arrive hours later.
The Covenant forces proceed to engage the UNSC reinforcements planetside. Despite Jiralhanae-led forces "assisting" Sangheili-led forces, the UNSC manages to defeat the Covenant in Côte d'Azur.
…
July 18th
All Covenant vessels either retreat or are destroyed. The battle concludes.
~0~
Aboard Turian Hierarchy Dreadnaught Atoning Warriors
General Solitus watched the Covenant Cruiser break apart under a hail of mass accelerator rounds. Internal explosions chained up the length of the massive ship and fire and debris burst from the CCS-Class, which proceeded to tear her apart.
The last alien vessel -a Destroyer-class- was gutted by two MAC's at once, and she exploded into a fireworks bouquet of shrapnel and sparks.
"Hah!" Yelled one of his officers. "Take that!"
The voice of UNSC Admiral Stanforth broke through their communications channel. "That was the last of them. All Covenant vessels neutralized. Brilliant work, everybody. This system remains in UNSC hands."
At that, the entire crew of the Atoning Warriors erupted into cheering. Soldiers clapped each other on the back, shouted profanities at the burning wreckages of Covenant warships or simply raised their fists to honour their fallen comrades.
Solitus crossed his arms and nodded, only held back from celebrating with his crew by years of discipline. He never thought he would live to see a day where the Covenant was bested in space warfare, yet here he was, having personally caused the destruction of three of his hated foe's warships.
With the Hierarchy's help, Sigma Octanus IV remained a human-held world. Thirteen million souls had been saved.
The soldier within him kept Solitus from thinking of this engagement as a total victory, however. Ten human vessels had burned, along with six Turian ones. Tens of thousands of civilians had lost their lives and they had outnumbered the Covenant two to one. Had the bastards sent the same fleet in as the one that was now burning worlds in Council space, they would have lost completely.
And one victory among the dozens of losses was hardly a compensation.
But they had won. Turians and humans had fought the Covenant and won a complete victory. There was hope.
And that counted for something.
~0~
August 30
0447 Hours:
The remote scanning outpost Fermion in the Epsilon Eridani System detects an incoming object in Slipspace as well. The object is estimated at three thousand kilometres in diameter.
An emergency message is relayed to FLEETCOM. The outpost then self-destructs per the Cole Protocol due to an unsecured science library.
~0~
Citadel
Citadel Embassies
Ten days later
Councillor Sparatus was enjoying his morning patrol through the Citadel Embassies that morning. He had no idea about what had happened. His people had completely failed to inform him. He knew for a fact that neither Valern nor Tevos knew what had taken place either.
The first sign that something was terribly, terribly wrong was when he made his way through the Embassies. There were plenty of human and Liminal politicians working on the ground of the Tower. Their diversity and overall pleasantness made stopping by their embassies in the morning a very enjoyable experience. Indeed, it often made for an excellent way to start his day. The people there always had time for a quick chat, despite their busy work.
When Sparatus entered their embassies, he didn't hear any conversations. No laughter, no yelling, no secretly-indecent behaviour.
What he heard was silence, broken only by heart-wrenching crying and sobbing. He saw humans and Liminals consoling each other while barely able to contain their own grief, without a single exception. The occasional Asari, Turian or Salarian could be seen among them, partaking in the sorrow.
There wasn't any sound in Council Space that quite like the lamentation of a Liminal woman. Their emotions were so unbridled, so untameable, that it made their distress that much harder to bear.
It was devastating.
Sparatus felt his mandibles quiver. What in the name of the Spirits could have happened?
A horrible thought formed in his mind.
Not Earth, he thought as he quickly made his way towards a computer terminal and logged in on. In his desperation to find something to dispute that horrifying idea, he mistyped his password at least twice. In the end though, the terminal accepted his credentials and allowed him access.
There, the very first news UEG news broadcast he stumbled across spelled it out for him with such bluntness that he had to read the headline three times before his brain processed it.
Reach falls: the future uncertain
"Spirits…" he muttered. He could feel his eyes prickle with heat. "Spirits…"
Not Earth. Just as bad. Arguably worse. Reach…was the UNSC's strategic headquarters and their biggest ship-building facility. He had toured the mighty fortress-world once, just two years back. The shipyards of that world could produce entire Battle Groups in months, the orbiting platforms could pump out rounds that could instantly destroy Covenant capital ships in just one shot. It was commonly accepted that the total military force of the entire Batarian Hegemony couldn't take that world even if they had a hundred years.
And now it was gone? Millions of soldiers, seven hundred million civilians, burned from sky without even a hint of mercy?
Sparatus took a moment to steady himself. If Reach was gone, it would take the Covenant mere months to win a total victory in the war. That was what human specialists said.
Plans of all sorts shot through his head, one more farfetched than the other. Plans to take in refugees, arrange for economical support, logistical support, anything that could help humanity.
Anything at all.
He couldn't think of anything.
Sparatus rushed out of the UEG embassy, immediately postponed his appointments for the day and returned to his quarters. There, he contacted Admiral Stanforth, the military representative of the UNSC and their special intelligence branch, the Office of Naval Intelligence.
Fleet Admiral Hood, the man in charge of making decisions for the UNSC's entire navy, answered instead.
Admiral Stanforth had died during the defence of Reach. His flagship, the mighty Leviathan, had burned.
Along with almost the entire defending fleet, including irreplaceable titans such as their Carriers and Supercarriers.
Why? Why hadn't the UNSC informed the Council of this? They could have helped, they could have done something!
Councillors Valern and Tevos joined the conversation with Admiral Hood's hologram as well. Tevos appeared just as shaken as Sparatus did, while Valern performed the daunting task of keeping his face straight quite admirably.
But what military commander could not weep when informed of such a massive loss?
Tevos asked about the Spartans. The invincible soldiers, the indominable warriors. Mankind's best and fiercest special forces.
Admiral Hood didn't answer her question.
The debriefing didn't last long. Files were shared, condolences were offered and Admiral Hood terminated the link when there was nothing else to discuss.
And none of the Councillors spoke to each other afterwards.
The message was clear. With the Epsilon Eridani system in Covenant hands, there were no further major stop points before Sol. Estimates put total human defeat as a matter of weeks. If the mighty Reach was gone, there wasn't a single world in Council space that could withstand the Covenant. Palaven wasn't safe, Thessia wasn't safe and Sur'kesh wasn't safe.
Spirits, even the Citadel wasn't safe.
Councillor Sparatus believed that they had just reached the lowest point in civilized history.
~0~
1903 Hours, September 21, 2548 (Military Calendar) /
Control Room of Installation 04
Deep within the confines of the massive Forerunner installation, no longer distracted by the wealth of information and knowledge that the construction contained, UNSC AI CTN 0452-9 could only watch as her Carrier endured seven kinds of hell, deep below the surface of Halo.
Her name was Cortana, and she was the most advanced Artificial Intelligence that had ever been created by humanity. Yet inside of the massive Control Room of the Forerunner ring, she felt more like an ant than a superior being. Except ants could still work, could still keep themselves busy. They could help .
And while she could most certainly do the former, it was impossible for her to perform within the boundaries of the latter.
Through integrated fibre-optic cameras and other, more complicated manners of observation, she watched the Master Chief fight his way through wave after wave of infected, mutated monstrosities. Once human and Liminal, now repurposed for a single purpose only: to kill and consume.
The Flood. The Buried Horror, the Flesh that Hungered, the Parasite, no matter what they were called, they were absolutely relentless. They were fast, impossibly-fast. They propelled themselves dozens of meters through the air in a single bound, smashed through solid steel with single strikes.
They were doing everything in their power to bring him to his knees.
John-117 was like the others. Strong, swift and brave. His augmentations, coupled with his powerful MJOLNIR, allowed him to shrug off blows that would have killed a lesser man in an instance. He was a blur of motion as he engaged one group of Flood forms, broke off and engaged another one. He fired his weapons until they were empty, plucked plasma weapons from cold, rotten claws and fired them until they were dry, then engaged the horde of abominations in close quarters, waging his life on the sole premise that he could hit and move faster than them.
And he did. Throughout their struggles together, Cortana's Carrier had displayed an almost-supernatural ability to outmanoeuvre his enemies. This remarkable ability to not die by staying mobile allowed him to even neutralize moving vehicles, including a Banshee, on one memorable occasion.
It was the sole reason why he was still alive. Constantly moving back and forth between enemy groups, prying weapons from dead, rotting hands, never once allowed a reprieve. And while he could certainly incapacitate Covenant warriors by breaking their limbs or pulping their organs with single strikes, the Flood combat forms didn't seem to care.
Cortana watched as something that had once been a Lamia ambushed the Chief from behind. He spun around, a fraction of a second too late, and the mass of coiled, rotting flesh and tentacles collided with him. They crashed to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs and contorting body-shapes.
The Spartan shoved the screeching creature out of his face, creating just enough room for him to bring his knee up. He kicked the creature in its sternum, slamming his boot straight through its chest cavity.
All it did was get him stuck in an even worse situation, as he failed to pull his boot free in time and was immediately pounced by another Flood form
Cortana saw it all happen through the Forerunner security systems, but there was nothing she could do. Nothing safe for cataloguing every single slipup and mistake and vow to prevent the Master Chief from ever making them again.
Being blindsided by the Flood form was not very hard to rationalize; the Chief was used to working with a team. His brothers and sisters, his family. The other SPARTAN-II's.
Except they were all gone now. Sent planetside to defend the Orbital Defence Platforms Generators. When the Covenant broke through and started glassing the planet…there was nothing the UNSC could have done.
One-One-Seven understood this. She had gleamed as much from his Neural Interface. He understood that the might be the last Spartan and that the burden of protecting mankind was his to bear. His behavior in combat had yet to reflect this.
Him being alone would get him killed.
The Master Chief managed to disarm the second foe and used the captured enemy to fry the infected Lamia at extreme close quarters.
Cortana felt a measure of relief that made her pause. The Spartan was her Carrier, the one responsible for her mission. If he died, so did their shot at protecting humanity from the Flood.
From Halo.
In essence, his survival was key to her own survival. Yet there was something else, too. She prioritized his wellbeing over matters that ought to be more important.
This was the second time she had experienced that. The first time had been in the Silent Cartographer, where the Master Chief had only barely managed to survive an encounter with a pair of Hunters.
She considered shutting her emotional-subroutine off, then reconsidered. This aspect of her intelligence template was valuable to her, more so than logic dictated.
One-One-Seven managed to fight his way free from the clutches of the Parasite and, in the span of five minutes, scrubbed them all. Before long, the bodies of fallen Flood began to accumulate.
It appeared even human combat forms possessed the raw strength of Liminal soldiers when infected by the flood. Them lacking the natural weapons Liminals did, didn't seem so inhibit them in the slightest. They simply grew a set of tentacles sturdy enough to rent metal to do the job for them or, failing that, simply whacked their prey hard enough to pulp their own flesh.
Then it left her Spartan all on his own again. This Monitor, 343 Guilty Spark. Cortana saw what it was doing. Playing on the Master Chief's lack of knowledge on Halo's systems to coax him into activating it for him, was he now?
Not on her watch.
"Oh, hello!" Cortana could hear the SOB hum through the audio systems. "I'm a genius!"
The Master Chief's hard, gritty voice growled back a response that made her feel oddly proud. "Right. And I'm a Vice Admiral."
Alas, the floating ball of annoyingness was thoroughly immune to sarcasm or any form of witty responses. The two pressed on, with Cortana once again helplessly watching them head straight for another Flood-infested hallway.
The violence lasted for hours, every single second of which Cortana spent observing. The Spartan, the Monitor, the Flood. She needed to understand as much as possible, as soon as possible.
Again, the Spartan slipped up due to a lack of having a teammember watching his back and again, Cortana winced when she realized that he simply couldn't acknowledge that his family was gone.
It was only when Cortana vowed to find a way to change that mindset when she realized she had an alternative. A way to, perhaps, alleviate her Carrier's quiet suffering and loneliness. He had been fighting for at least two days without rest, yet he pressed on without a complaint. Mankind's staunchest protector.
If there was a way for her to find him a new team, a new family, perhaps she could decrease the instances during which the Spartan put himself at risk. It would severely increase his survivability if he had a skilled team of soldiers, too.
This was purely a matter of statistics and logic, really. If One-One-Seven's chances at survival went up, so did hers. And if her chances of survival were high enough, she might even find a way to complete their mission.
Him having a team to watch his back and take care of him was purely a matter of military wisdom. Perhaps it served secondary purposes as well, but Cortana was willing to accept those.
The Master Chief made it to another one of those massive elevators and the Monitor activated it for him.
During the particularly-long time the elevator took before delivering the Spartan to his next fight, Cortana took inventory of the military records she still had in her possession and did some searching. In the span of one second, she went through many tens of thousands of candidates, including several Council Spectres.
Several candidates caught her attention right off the bat. The first was the junior officer Miia Lucifinae, the hero of Elysium, or the Serpent of Elysium, as the Batarian Hegemony now knew her. A Lamia, of the Echidna subspecies. Her combat skills were remarkable; she had held off an entire military assault all on her own, easily claiming more than a hundred kills within the first few hours alone. A real war hero. She had been serving under Keyes for a while, before Keyes got reassigned to the Covenant Theatre. For some reason, the Corporal had been given an M7 designation, but was forbidden from leaving the Citadel Threatre.
Cortana thought she knew why. She saved her profile for future references and moved on. The second candidate was just as renowned as the first, though not in a positive way. Specialist Dracosa Victorias, a Dragon who had proven to be vital for the USNC's victory in Torfan. She had slaughtered all personnel in her AO in the stronghold, including noncombatants and surrendering personnel, as later camera footage would point out. The Butcher of Torfan, they now called her. The Predator of Torfan.
If there was anyone the Batarian Hegemony feared and loathed more than the Serpent of Elysium, it was her.
Well, being ruthless was something that would certainly come in handy in the Human-Covenant war. She had engaged and neutralized hostiles that could have gone toe-to-toe with Elites and live.
Cortana saved her profile as well and turned her attention to a more obscure one. A woman whose service record was nearly as long as One-One-Seven's, which was really hard to achieve.
Then again, Commander Lillim Shepard had about two centuries' time to do so, which made that achievement somewhat less amazing. Somewhat. Still, an Elder Devil with more than two centuries of experience was a vital asset in the field. Whereas most Elder Devils in the military served as advisors or seasoned officers, Lillim continued to serve in the field. Curious.
She had an interesting sense of morality. Saving child soldiers, preventing a Spartan from putting down surrendering aliens, those weren't your average performances.
Cortana saved the Commander's profile as well. There, three possible teammembers should both she as her Spartan survive this mess.
That possibility was looking more slim every passing second.
But as long as he persevered, so would she.
~0~
October
4th
An edict from the Office of the High Prophet of Truth orders that in the virtue of the Jiralhanae, all Sangheili posted with the Fleet of Profound Solitude, the Fleet of Tranquil Composure, and the Fleet of Inner Knowledge to be completely replaced by Jiralhanae. Each removed Sangheili to be assigned other duties. In celebration, all imprisoned or criminal Jiralhanae were released, rehabilitated, and pardoned.
…
8th
After learning that the location of Earth is compromised, the Citadel Council sends reinforcements to Sol. The Turian Second Fleet and the Asari Sixth Fleet arrive several hours after the Salarian Third Fleet.
Council officials are sent along with the reinforcements to "oversee the proper usage of their Fleets". In no way is their presence related to the planned celebration of the return of the survivors of Installation 04, whatsoever.
…
Incoming call. ID designation: Spectre SOB.
Audio transcript
S.A: "Johnson, slippery primate. You survived the greatest catastrophe in human history?"
A.J.J: "I'm a Marine, Arterius. Unlike your pushover race, we're built to survive!"
S.A: "So I've seen. You have my condolences."
A.J.J: "The hell you talking about? Have you been sniffing around Red Sand crates again?"
S.A: "Installation zero-four. Halo. I read the reports your ONI sent to the Council. Your people-"
A.J.J: "-survived, moron. Most of us made it. Keyes, Pattillo, Ramsey and all those whacky navy persons. Even picked up some surviving Spartans on Reach."
S.A: "What- how- that-"
A.J.J: "Can't hear you. You're breaking up. Something big closing in on your location?"
S.A: *Hangs up*
…
Unbeknownst to Spartan-117, Cortana initiates OPERATION: OKAYADO and pulls all suitable candidates for the operation back to Earth.
..
~0~
11:15 hours, October 20th ,2548 (UNSC Military Calendar) \ Aboard Orbital Defence Platform "Cairo". Sol system, Earth.
Everywhere she went, Matriarch Benezia was regarded as a person of high importance. Exceptions were made, rules were bent and more often than not, her very presence was enough for the event which she wished to oversee to lose its sincerity. It was difficult for a well-known Matriarch in Council Space to oversee any significant event.
This was most certainly not the case in UEG-controlled space. Here, orbiting the human capital world, there was not a single soul who paid attention to her. She, along with General Victus and the Salarian Dalatrass Linron, were simply guests. They were welcome and steps had been taken to make them feel welcome, but they did not receive any special consideration.
And for that, Benezia was thankful. She stood among the humans and Liminals as public, on equal footing with soldiers and civilians alike. This day, humanity's attention was directed at those who truly deserved it.
The brave individuals who had survived the great horror that was Halo. There were only a few persons in Citadel Space who truly knew what had actually happened on Halo. Among them were the members of the esteemed Council and the Spectres who had fought in the Human-Covenant war.
So Benezia could only guess at the horrors these courageous souls must have seen. The things they must have done to survive on that Installation…
She, along with Victus and Linron, stood on the bridge of the station as the preparations for the celebration continued. There was a security detail present, of course. Whether they were there to guard the representatives or merely help to shape an image of security, Benezia knew not.
And why should it matter? This was a day of celebration, not of war. They had a beautiful view of Earth, the homeworld. A stunning world, no doubt. If only there was no need for the hundreds of orbiting platforms defending it…
Victus did not seem to mind. He had expressed nothing but respect and appreciation for these weapons of mass destruction. When a passer-by had told them about the destructive capabilities of the "Cairo", Victus had only managed to keep a straight face because of the decades of experience and discipline that befitted a General.
The gathered UNSC personnel snapped to attention. The soldiers near the tram station assumed their positions and Benezia knew it was time.
"Ah," Said Victus. "There we go."
He too straightened his back and snapped to attention.
Benezia merely smiled; who would have thought that the Turians would become such trustworthy allies for humanity?
Small drones fluttered around, taking shots and vids of the survivors of the battle for Halo. Not all of them were coming to Cairo, of course. There were a dozen other platforms where the survivors were receiving their awards, but Cairo was special.
The doors of the tram opened. The heroes of the Halo Installation stepped on deck. Benezia, who had memorized the invitation, immediately recognized them.
Although it was difficult not to recognize him.
Spartan One-One-Seven, the Master Chief. He stood taller than a Krogan, but moved with more elegance and precision than many a Matriarch could. He was, without a doubt, the greatest soldier in the galaxy.
Matriarch Benezia couldn't begin to fathom how lonely the man must feel.
The others quickly walked in after the Master Chief.
Captain Jacob Keyes, hero of Sigma Octanus.
Sergeant Avery Johnson, the man who had reportedly saved the lives of Jacob and his entire crew when a mission on Halo went awry.
Flight Officer Carol Rawley, known to the soldiers as "Foehammer". The fearless pilot who had risked her life to get her fellow soldiers to safety.
Members of Keyes' crew were there, too. Lieutenants Pattillo and Ramsey and Ensign Michael Lovell.
Still, Benezia could not help but wonder how many men and women had died on Halo. What could be so horrible that the UNSC was unwilling to share what had happened there? What could be more horrifying than the Covenant?
"Ladies and gentlemen," Said Fleet Admiral Lord Hood. "We're lucky to have you back."
One of Hood's officers stepped forwards and whispered something in his ear.
Victus clicked his mandibles in a gesture of uncertainty. "Something's wrong…" he muttered.
"I apologize," said Lord Hood, "But we're going to have to make this quick."
The Artificial Intelligence appeared on her pedestal and said something to the Master Chief. In a moment of confusion, both the Spartan as the tough-looking Sergeant replied at the same time.
"Thanks."
"Thank you!"
Then, the two gentlemen turned to look at each other. Possibly in confusion, possibly in some manly territorial dispute, as the AI was an attractive-looking creature.
Beneza thought the idea of attraction to an AI rather repugnant. After all, Artificial Lifeforms had caused the Citadel races no end of grief. But they were of vital importance to humanity, so she would keep her judgement to herself.
Lord Hood scraped his throat and the ceremony started in earnest. "Sergeant Major, the Colonial Cross is awarded for acts of singular daring and devotion, for a soldier of the United Earth Space Corps."
Avery stepped forwards and gracefully accepted the medal, which Lord Hood pinned on his chest.
The crowd applauded. Benezia and Victus joined in, but the Dalatrass stopped noticeably earlier than the rest.
Then, it was the Master Chief's turn. "Master Chief Petty Officer One-One-Seven, it is only because of your daring and selfless actions on Halo that any of us can live to celebrate this day. I speak for all of humanity when I say, thank you."
It was curious how the humans kept referring to themselves as "humanity" when they also referred the Liminal species. To them, the different species truly belonged to mankind. Such a magnificent union…to believe that there were those among the Asari Republics who deemed mankind a dangerous, warlike race. If only those poor fools could witness this moment.
"Commander Jacob Keyes. Your actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of military service. Your bravery in the face of impossible odds reflects great credit, upon yourself, and the UNSC. We thank you."
He too received the Colonial Cross. Benezia could see his pride swell, even though the man did not allow any emotions to seep through his stern expression.
One young woman amidst the crowd applauded louder than the rest, beaming with pride as Jacob received the honoured medal.
Benezia smiled. So Jacob was a father, as well as a teacher? The UNSC represented itself well!
The rest of the crew followed suit. However, when it was Carol Rawley's turn, everything went completely wrong. Klaxons began blaring and the AI addressed Lord Hood directly. "Slipspace ruptures, directly off our battle cluster!"
Lord Hood responded with decades of military experience. "Show me."
The display flickered, showing several approach vectors for a group of distinctively-shaped warships.
The Covenant was upon them.
"Fifteen Covenant capital ships, holding position just outside the killzone."
"This is Fleet Admiral Harper. We are engaging the enemy!"
Lord Hood's response was immediate. "Negative, Admiral. Form a defensive perimeter around the cluster. He then addressed Jacob personally. "Captain, get to your ship. Commander! You too. Link up with the fleet!"
The daughter stood and saluted. "Yes sir!"
"You have the MAC gun, Cortana. As soon as they come in range, open up."
The AI responded with an oddly emotional sentiment. "Gladly."
General Victus looked he was about to personally take the fight to the Covenant fleet. Stern, yet calm. Benezia did not doubt for a moment that her Turian comrade was devising stratagems even as the humans were taking action themselves. "This cannot be right. The fleet that burned Reach was enormous!" He declared.
The answer to that puzzle resolved itself rather quickly, in the form of one of the sensor operators. "Sir, additional contacts! Boarding craft, and lots of 'em!"
Lord Hood instantly knew what was going on. "They're going to try to take our MAC guns offline, give their capital ships a straight shot at Earth. Master Chief, defend this station."
"Yes sir," spoke the Spartan. His voice was hard, like it hadn't been used in a very long time. Gravelly, but not like a Krogan. Definitely not unpleasant. "Johnson, I need a weapon."
The Sergeant Major smirked, flashing a set of perfectly-white teeth. "Right this way."
Linron scowled. "Covenant! We need to evacuate this station at once! Guards!"
Benezia understood that she was in mortal danger. Very few faced the Covenant and escaped with their lives, after all. But right now, she felt strangely calm. She was in the presence of one of humanity's most powerful weapons and guarded by their most skilled soldier. She did not feel afraid.
In fact, she felt intrigued. She wondered what the Master Chief was like, when he entered combat. She had heard the stories of the Spartans, just like all the Matriarchs had, yet she had never personally witnessed them. Some had. They claimed that the Spartans were like a raging storm. Like fire and ice, magnificent and terrifying all at the same time.
But she knew better. "Dalatrass, General, we should evacuate. We would only stand in the UNSC's way."
Linron grumbled a response, but Victus remained silent.
"Victus?"
The General was gone.
"What-?"
Benezia looked down and saw a suspiciously-Turian shape marching after the soldiers and the Master Chief, carrying a suspiciously-human rifle. "General Victus!"
Victus flinched like a child caught stealing candy.
"You are wearing ceremonial clothes without barriers, without protection, you fool!"
"But-"
"No "but"! You will evacuate with us, General!"
Grumbling, General Victus fell back in line.
~0~
Covenant Holy City High Charity
High Council
Supreme Commander Thela 'Vadamee solemnly watched the trial reveal the scale of her brother's failure. The enormity of his incompetence was only matched by the unruliness of the Council; even the filthy Jiralhanae were allowed entrance.
The Sacred Ring, Halo, the artefact that would finally allow the Covenant to embark on the Great Journey, had finally been discovered. An entire armada had been present, so soon after their grand victory on the human fortress world.
And Thel had failed to protect it.
The loss of the holy Forerunner relic was an unforgivable failure in the eyes of the High Prophets and Sangheili Councillors. They declared that it was heresy and demanded Thel's blood.
Thela felt torn between despising her younger brother for bringing shame and dishonour of such proportions to the House of 'Vadamee and suspicion at the nature of this meeting. Their close friend, Rtas 'Vadumee, had revealed to her what had truly transpired on the Sacred Ring.
The Parasite had been released. The Fleet of Particular Justice's Prophet began subverting Thel, misappropriating military forces to secure facilities on the ring. With the revelation of the Parasite's activities on the ring, how could Thel not have ordered his ships to evacuate the Ring? How could he have known the Demon's intentions?
Thel tried to make the Holy Ones see reason, following the same line of logic she had. "Noble Hierarchs...surely you understand that once the parasite attacked..."
At that, the members of the Council began to shout. Thela crossed her arms, not amused with the way this was going. Her brother had shown incompetence, yes, but that was no reason to execute him. Stripping him of his rank and his honor was enough, so that he might redeem himself in combat, or die trying.
"There will be order in this Council!" Shouted the Prophet of Mercy and by his command, the cavernous room became quiet once more.
The Prophet of Truth continued. "You were right to focus your attention on the Flood, but this Demon, this 'Master Chief'..."
Thela growled at the mention of the Abomination's name. The Demon was an "it", not worthy of being called by its "rank".
"By the time I learned the Demon's intent, there was nothing I could do."
Thela refused to believe that. There were always methods to deny your enemy their price. He should have taken the risk, bombarded the Demon from orbit.
Although, the Council would have seen him hung if he did that and damaged the Holy Ring as well.
The gathered members of the Councl weren't content with his answer, either. They started shouting and jeering again, yelling profanities and curses to Thel's name.
And when Thela saw the Chieftain of the Jiralhanae chuckle to himself, she felt that same urge to vent her frustrations, only not directed at her brother.
After a few moments of whispering among themselves, the Prophet of Truth spoke the verdict. "You are one of our most cherished instruments. Long have you led your fleet with honor and distinction, but your inability to safeguard Halo...was a colossal failure."
That, it was.
"Nay!" Shouted one of the Councillors. "It was heresy!"
That, it was not.
Thel, being the proud warrior he was, ignored the outrage and accusations with dignity. As the room filled with angry shouts, he rose his head like the Kaidon he was. "I will continue my campaign against the human and their war-animals."
"No!" Said the Prophet. With sudden clarity, this time. "You will not."
Then, the disgusting Jiralhanae moved to take up his arms. Thel stood up straighter and snarled at one of them, who wisely backed off.
"Soon, the Great Journey shall begin." And as the Jiralhanae escorted Thela's little brother out of the room, likely to take him to his execution, the Hierarch ended the session by declaring, "But when it does, the weight of your heresy will stay your feet, and you shall be left behind."
~0~
The UNSC home-fleet, working together with the Turian, Asari and Salarian fleets, utterly demolish the invading Covenant ships. One Assault Carrier holds position to engage the Orbital Defence Platforms, but it is quickly destroyed when John-117 politely returns the Covenant's antimatter charge with an EVA manoeuvre.
John-117 instantly wins the hearts of all present Turian Captain and many of their soldiers. General Victus becomes too enthusiastic and has a little accident. New Turian-pants are commissioned.
…
The second Assault Carrier, carrying the High Prophet of Regret, much to the surprise of the defending forces, sacrifices all the other ships to break through to New Mombasa.
Despite the legions of Covenant troops deployed by the Assault Carrier, the Liminal population stands ready to defend their homeworld.
…
The Battle for Old Mombasa is won within the hour, as Liminal civilians link up with soldiers and slaughter the invaders.
Surviving Covenant forces are abandoned when the Assault Carrier prepares for an immediate Slipspace jump. Only the UNSC Frigate In Amber Clad and the refitted UNSC Destroyer Iroquois manage to follow the Carrier's Slipspace wake.
Moments later, the Prophet of Truth's fleet arrives in earnest. The fiercest space battle in civilized history begins.
…
Thel 'Vadamee is made the Arbiter by the Prophets of Mercy and Truth.
~0~
November 3th
Aboard CAS-Class Assault Carrier Seeker of Truth, Fleet of Particular Justice
Something was wrong. Thela 'Vadamee felt it in her gut. The Councillors should have responded by now.
The Supreme Commander turned to face the Mgalekgolo pair responsible for security on the Seeker of Truth. "Find the Councillors. I need to know that they are safe."
The colonies within the Lekgolo pair pulsed in harmonic union to produce a subsonic rumble. Words, which were more felt than heard. Together they acknowledged her order and departed to start their patrol.
With that, Thela turned her attention back to her views-screens. The past few days had been…hectic. Between dealing with assassins sent after her to eliminate her for her brother's failure and the sudden withdrawal of the Fleet of Particular Justice from the Citadel Collective space, she had not been able to completely follow the events since Thel had been sentenced to death.
And now, there were reports that a Hierarch had died! That the Prophet on Regret, down on the surface of the silver arc of the Forerunner Halo construct—ominous, breath-taking, and the source of this trouble.
One of her teams down in the second hangar bay suddenly sent her a transmission on the emergency channel.
"Supreme Commander, the Jiralhanae, they have betrayed us! They are coming for you!"
"Blood!" Spat Thela. She felt the urge to smash her first into something, but relented. "Stand fast. I shall deal with them."
"Exalted One, we can hold. The wretched mongrels are coming for you! They can arrive any moment!"
The Supreme Commander narrowed her eyes. Silence reigned in the bridge.
Thela 'Vadamee felt a measure of frustration she had not felt since the heard of her brother's fate. If she had to tame these beasts as well as cement her reputation, she would.
"Keep the Seeker safe from other vessels," she growled at her officers. She had gained their loyalty and trust through years of bloodshed and violence; they better than to incur her wrath. "Do not let anything board us."
Her officers obeyed her without question.
Thela's long cloak whirled behind her as she rushed towards one of the sealed doors. Her ancestors had worn thick, doarmir-fur cloaks like this at sea to stay warm and dry on long voyages. She had made hers by hand, on the grim-cast day Thel had wounded himself in training, and required a doctor.
Such a dishonor. A blight on his past.
She reached for her energy sword, but did not yet activate it. A drawn weapon demanded blood and she would not coat the floor of her bridge with the gore of unworthy foes.
The door opened and she found herself face-to-face with a Jiralhanae. It was clearly surprised by her appearance, as it flinched for a second.
She did not need more. She lashed out with her left hand and dug her fingers deep into the creature's eye-sockets, blinding and enraging it.
It mattered little. With one fell gesture, the Supreme Commander activated her blade and drove it straight through her foe's chest, instantly killing it.
She discarded its stinking carcass and beheld the rest of its pack. All of them Jiralhanae, all of them armed.
All of them dead.
The fight took mere seconds, after which Thela 'Vadamee sheathed her energy sword again, crushed the decapitated head of the last Jiralhanae beneath her boot and took her place at the bridge again. There, she activated the ship's broadcast signal. "Sangheili of the Seeker of Truth. The Jiralhanae have risen against us! We shall give them no mercy, Slay them on sight."
"Supreme Commander!" Growled one of her officers. "The Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity is falling into chaos!"
'Vadamee could see that. On-screen, a hundred vessels were idly drifting through space, without purpose and without guidance.
At least, not completely without guidance. An incoming transmission from High Charity was picked up by the Seeker's sensors. Finally, this madness would end and they would receive clear orders!
"The Sangheili have failed to protect the Prophets, and in doing so, have put all our lives at risk. Let no warrior forget his oath, 'Thou, in faith, shall keep us safe, whilst we find the Path." With my blessing, the Jiralhanae now lead our fleets! They ask for your allegiance, and you shall give it."
That was the Prophet of Truth…the Hierarch himself.
What nonsense was this? Give command of the fleet to the Jiralhanae? Her fleet? This was unacceptable!
"Are we to blame?" Her younger officer muttered. "Is this punishment, for our failures?"
Thela snarled grabbed the officer by his neck. "When the Demon laid waste to Halo, Thel 'Vadamee was given the blame. Now the Demon kills the Hierarch, and our entire species is to blame? I will not accept this. Stay true to your blood. We must stay vigilant!"
The Lekgolo pair reported in. There was heavy fighting among the Jiralhanae-controlled sections of the Seeker of Truth. This treachery was no longer limited to a band of dissidents; the ancient feud between their races was about to escalate.
Then, the Seeker rumbled.
"Plasma strike on the aft shield! Successfully deflected."
"Trace that firing solution and give me a target," said Thela.
"Calculating, Exalted One. Solution obtained. One target."
A holographic Cruiser appeared on the deck and sped towards them. It identified as the Bringer of Darkness, a Jiralhanae-controlled vessel.
"Maneuver one three one by four seven two. Target the Bringer with the two fore Energy Projectors. Deliver them to the void."
The cleansing illumination tore through the Cruiser's shields, then its hull. It blasted through the entire ship in a heartbeat and detonated the aft plasma coils, shattering the ship into a haze of glowing particles.
If the savage beasts thought they could take an Assault Carrier with but a single Cruiser, they were even more foolish than she thought.
But the attack served its purpose. With the destruction of the Bringer of Darkness, more vessels opened fire on each other. And with that first engagement, the entire fleet descended into madness.
~0~
Installation 05
Bastion of the Brutes
Sergeant Major Avery Junior "Blow-the-hell-out-of-alien-ass" Johnson was reporting to duty. With a big, smoking plasma rifle in one hand and a big, smoking cigar in the other.
A big, ugly Brute screamed at his face, infuriated that his pathetic little energy cuffs had failed to hold his manliness in one place.
So he spread the dumb ape's manliness all over the place in turn. "Come on men!" He yelled at Stacker and Banks. "We've got Armageddon to raise and Armageddon to stop!"
A Brute slashed at him with his big grenade launcher machete hybrid, which Johnson effortlessly deflected with his cigar. The alien grunted and fell to his knees, allowing Johnson to slap him across his bitch-face.
"That's for manhandling the lady!" He snapped.
Another Brute tried to ambush him, but his new rank came with privileges. He sensed the attack before it ever came and opened fire with the plasma rifle, blasting the alien with white-hot fiery death.
"That's for manhandling me!"
But for all his might, Johnson could not predict the appearance of a badass that wasn't him. The doors on the opposite end of the strange platform opened and an energy sword erupted from the chest of the last Brute, who uttered a gurgling scream and then died.
Johnson beheld the visage of the Elite who had attempted to knock him out in the Library. The two of them had done battle, until half the room had been destroyed and all Flood forms in the vicinity were dead.
The split-faced bastard-badass had only won because that mohawk had dropped by and taken advantage of Avery's allergy to altered gravity fields. That was bullshit.
But this time, the Sergeant Major had a way of levelling the playing field. He ordered Stacker and Banks aboard the big-ass Scarab that was docked to the room and then stared down the Elites that came barging inside.
He raised his fist and by the power of his Sergeant Major rank, his boys now knew how to pilot the Scarab with just the two of them.
"Listen," said Johnson. "You don't like me and I sure as hell don't like you. But if we don't do something, Mr. Mohawk's gonna activate this ring... and we're all gonna die."
The Elite raised his hand and prevented the gathered other Elites and Hunters from making a big mistake. "Tartarus has locked himself inside the Control Room."
Johnson nodded. "Well, I just happen to have a key." As on cue, the cannon on the Scarab opened. "Come on. Grab a Banshee and give me some cover. He's gonna know we're comin'."
The Sergeant then proceeded to enter the Scarab, take control and steer it straight towards that Tartarsauce's base.
~0~
Sergeant Major Johnson and Arbiter Thel 'Vadamee get to know each other better over the smell of burning Jiralhanae and the performance of badass boasts.
After a long, drawn-out fight, the Arbiter and the Sergeant Major slay the Chieftain of the Jiralhanae, Tartarus, and assist Miranda Keyes in stopping Halo from firing.
…
High Charity falls to the Flood.
…
The Covenant falls apart.
…
John-117 vows to finish the fight.
~0~
Citadel News Cast
"This is Emily Wong, broadcasting live from Earth's Resistance Channel. With the loss of costless equipment in the Sol system, the "live" part of this broadcast might already be weeks old. Who knows? After the deceptively-small fleet of the Covenant leader knowns as the "Prophet of Regret" was destroyed by Earth's formidable defences, the true bulk of the Covenant fleet arrived. And when I say the bulk, I really mean it. We've got hundreds of ships defending Earth, including several Turian and Asari Dreadnaughts and the much-esteemed UNSC Cruisers. The Covenant just blew past them and made a beeline straight for Africa. It's like they're not even concerned with casualties…"
Councillor Sparatus knew that, despite the reporter's doubts, the Office of Naval Intelligence on Earth had taken extreme measures to make sure their superluminal communication installations remained active and in contact with Salarian communication vessels, if only to arm the Citadel Council with the knowledge to defeat the Covenant.
They were literally tying to fling a light into the future.
It pained him to realize, but the Hierarchy's reinforcements were outclassed in every possible way. His fleet might as well have been a group of flies, buzzing around the Covenant's warships for all the good they did. Even on the ground, where his armies had vowed to hold the line, the Hierarchy's unbreakable units were getting torn apart by Covenant forces. It was only because of the native population of Earth that the men had any chance of holding their ground. Humanity's sheer diversity in species was their greatest asset.
But how long would it last, truly? Cutting-edge Salarian communication technology allowed for ludicrously-fast lines of communication, but due to a lack of Mass Relays in UNSC-controlled space, all viable military intelligence arrived at least twelve hours later.
Every hour that passed could mark the total defeat of mankind.
Tevos entered his office, bringing him some refreshments. She cast one look at the screen, sighed and then waved with her omni-tool, shutting it off again. "Oh, Sparatus, why must you torment yourself like this? You have done all you can. You do not owe humanity anything. Not after everything you have already done for them."
"How long have we held this station?" He asked.
"Do you mean the Council?"
"No. Our species. Turians, Asari, Salarians. How long ago were the Rachni Wars? The Krogan Rebellions? How many centuries has this system worked?"
"I…I do not follow you."
"We've been keeping Council space safe for two millennia. The Covenant is fighting us and them at the same time. Even as we speak, their fleets are consuming our worlds. How is it that we cannot best them too?"
Tevos sat down next to him. "Well, perhaps we can. We need time. It took the Turian fleets centuries to beat back the Krogan during the Rebellions."
"And yet the casualties taken during those centuries roughly add up to the casualties during the three years of the Human-Covenant War. Look at the humans. In the span of a year, they won a major victory, lost their greatest world and found an artefact so horrible they are still unwilling to share all the details. And now they are fighting for their very existence, while we sit back in our own sector of space, safe and snug."
"What would you have us do?"
Sparatus clicked his mandibles, annoyed. "Anything! We have thousands of ships scattered across our regions. Will we wait until the Covenant brings their own fleets to bear against us?"
"There are no Mass Relays in UNSC-controlled space, Sparatus. If it wasn't for the refuelling stations built in-between, there wouldn't be any of our ships with them!"
Sparatus was about to give a retort when Valern sent him the latest report from the STG teams on Earth. "Excuse me…"
Sector Six…Afghanistan? Forerunner vessel? What was…
Wait.
Hold on.
"Spirits…" gasped Sparatus.
"What?" Demanded Tevos. "What did they learn?"
The Turian Councillor turned to face his colleague and promptly hugged her. "They found him!" He then exclaimed. "They found Spartan One-One-Seven!"
"What?" Tevos appeared flustered from the impromptu show of affection, but she didn't seem to care "But he was lost after the assassination of Regret!"
"I know!" Sparatus was basically jumping with delight. "He jumped from orbit!"
"From orbit?!"
"They tracked his descend -Spirits, now they have a fighting chance!"
~0~
'The Prophet of Truth's fleet hits Earth hard.
Earth hits back harder. The majority of the population rises up against the invaders, striking in every way possible. Nature Spirits as well as Dryad's create safe havens for civilians, while inflecting massive losses on the Covenant forces.
Unwilling to fight opponents they cannot harm with projectile technology, the Jiralhanae resort to bombing areas of resistance from orbit.
The irony that Elites with plasma weaponry could have hurt the more intangible, supernatural species is lost on the Brutes.
~0~
.November 17th.
Earth
Military base Crow's Nest
"Smile for the camera," called a Marine. The young man was filming the gathered soldiers with an omni-tool app, likely gathering footage for the various live broadcasts that the UNSC was sending to Council space.
The boy was limping. He had caught a plasma bolt to his left leg, which had nearly taken the limb off. Only the timely intervention of a Slime Girl had saved him from an untimely amputation.
Still, Second Lieutenant Miia Lucifinae felt he was being much too enthusiastic about this whole thing. Yes, Earth wasn't glassed yet and yes, due to the Citadel's reinforcements, the fleet was holding.
But that didn't mean a thing when the Covenant had literally millions of soldiers crawling around the place!
The young Lamia sighed and buried her head in her arms. She watched a pair of Salarians gather around a holographic display, chattering away over the strange artefact that the Covenant was trying to uncover in Voi. Several Turians were hauling a crate of arms around and Qurian engineers were trying to get some sort of machine in working order again.
The UNSC was pulling all ships back to Sol, gathering them near the moon called Io. It left their remaining colonies defenceless. What was to stop the Batarian Hegemony from invading their worlds now? With the barest minimum of ships in the Attican Traverse…even if they won on Earth, what would they return home to?
Miia didn't know. She didn't want to know.
Some of the soldiers made room for a team of Harpies, who had been sent out to patrol the perimeter.
"It was them!" One of the girls squealed. "It was Echo-419, we need to prepare for their landing!"
Miia's ears perched at that. Echo-419? She knew that call-sign. Who didn't? Foehammer's motto was legendary; she delivered.
She had returned from that top-secret mission of hers, had she now?
As the highest-ranking officer in the area, the duty to report Foehammer's return was hers. So she immediately returned to the command centre of the Crow's Nest, making use of the specialized passages that had been built into the base to make it easier for certain Liminals to get around.
The Nest was a hive of activity. Liminals of all species were running around, performing tasks that ranged from simple logistics to downright keeping wounded soldiers from slipping away.
Miia saw a Dullahan tending to a pair of unconscious soldiers, together with a Hel. Supposedly, they could stave off death long enough for life-saving surgeries or medication to do their work, saving people who were literally about to die.
In some extreme cases, they literally pulled people back from the dead, but only if they could get to them in time.
Miia didn't know what to think about that. She could buy a lot of things, but Extraspecies persons who commanded the afterlife? Which afterlife, what souls?
There were just too many problems with an idea like that. She couldn't accept it.
That being said, she had seen some pretty crazy things happen around those sorts of Liminals, which was why she normally kept her distance from her.
But desperate times called for desperate measures. Humans weren't as tough as Liminals were; they just weren't built to take the sheer punishment that they could. Now, the last line of defence was their responsibility.
And they would gladly take that responsibility, as well as the burden.
Miia made her way to the command centre and saluted Captain Keyes, who was directing his men from the ground. "Sir! Pelican dropship Echo-419 has returned from her clandestine operation!"
The Captain looked up, his eyes gleaming with emotion. "Excellent Lieutenant. Why don't you take a break? Go and meet him."
"Him, sir?" Miia replied, puzzled at that strange remark.
"At Echo-419, Lieutenant. Escort our guests to the command centre."
The Lamia still had no idea what the officer was talking about, but she wasn't going to question him. "Eh, yes sir!"
So with that, she made her way to the landing pad, where the boys were just waving Foehammer in. The Pelican looked scorched and battered, but she was still intact, for which Miia was very grateful. They were already running low on equipment as it was.
She watched the dropship touch down, startling some wounded humans nearby.
The tray of the ship opened and something inhuman stepped out. It stood seven feet tall, easily, and was clad in a set of green armor that looked bulky, yet elegant and slim at the same time. Blotches of purple and blue still caked its thoracic plates.
Miia gasped. She knew that man. Everybody did. He was the legendary Master Chief, Spartan One-One-Seven. Some said he was the last of the Spartans, the last of an unit so elite, so legendary, that Covenant soldiers trembled in their wake.
This was the first time she had ever seen him in person. She felt her heart race, her cheeks burning with heat.
Few humans had ever earned her admiration. Old man Keyes was one. His fearless daughter was another. But this man, this…Spartan…simply being near him made her feel like she was going to be alright. Now, Commander Keyes' planned assault might actually work!
"M-Master Chief!" She stammered and hurried to salute.
The mirrored visor made him look all the more intimidating. There was no saying what sort of eyes were looking at her from behind that golden visor.
She immediately imagined that they were very pretty to look at.
Moments later she regretted. You're a Lieutenant for crying out loud! She scolded herself. Act like it!
The Arbiter and the Sergeant Major exited the Pelican dropship as well. Miia, desperate to shake off those immature thoughts, addressed Johnson. "Where did you find him?"
"Napping, Out back."
That the Sergeant Major could talk so…so brazenly about this man. So open, like standing next to him was nothing! She knew that Johnson was a legendary soldier as well, but to think that he and the Master Chief were so close…unimaginable.
"I-it's good to see you here, Master Chief!" Miia then said, quite a bit louder than she had planned. "You should c-come with me. I mean, to the command centre! The Captain is waiting for you!"
As the Master Chief and the Sergeant Major headed down the base, Miia spotted the Arbiter giving her a very odd look.
"What are you staring at!" She snapped at him.
He merely shook his head, as if amused by some inside joke.
~0~
Invading Drone forces are slaughtered by a flock of Harpies who discovered their infiltration point.
The allegedly-fearless Drones were taught how to experience said emotion when they discovered the Killer Hornet subspecies on Earth. The Killer Hornets, in turn, discover a new favorite food source.
…
Brute forces invading the Crow's Nest are ambushed and swiftly killed by squads of Lamias, Centaurs and Dragons.
The Brute Chieftain gets eaten by a Mimic.
~0~
One hour later
Voi
The last of the invaders stood tall and held its ground, bellowing a challenge to all who would dare confront it. In turn, it was ran down by at least eight different Centaurs. It was dead in seconds, trampled beneath the feet of thousands of kilos of horse-legged soldiers.
"Did we get it? Did we get it?" Yelled one of the Centaurs.
"Aww...gross, I've got Brute on my feet!" Said another.
Dracos watched the mangled corpse and chuckled. There was nothing quite was fun as watching the eyes of a Brute as it realized it was being outmatched. That dawning moment of comprehension, that understanding that they weren't going to win through sheer force alone…it was glorious.
The death of that last Brute marked the defeat of the alien forces in the area. Draco proudly surveyed her handiwork; a dozen dead Grunts, seven badly-mangled Jackal corpses and the collective limbs and viscera of four Brutes. She had memorized their races, as each one demanded a different approach. The average Brute was roughly as strong as she was when it came to blunt force, but lacked the natural weapons to make proper use of that strength.
As formidable as they were, blood-loss greatly weakened them.
Although decapitation was always the best solution.
"That's the last of them!" Yelled the Sergeant. "Make room for the Chief!"
Draco paused, somewhat confused. The Chief? Which Chief?
She heard the sound of approaching vehicles and glanced over her shoulder, folding her wings back against her body as she did. A column of four jeeps emerged from the tunnel to Tsavo Highway, carrying even more soldiers.
But one in particular caught the Dragon's attention. He was encased in pearlescent green battle armor, like a mighty warrior from ancient stories her mother used to read to her. He was taller than any human, yet didn't look like he was an Extraspecies person.
He reeked of death and fire and his armor was battered and singed.
Dracosa took an instant liking to him.
Several of the soldiers who had worked with her in this engagement glanced at her, likely catching her staring at the green-clad warrior.
They were whispering to each other.
She didn't care. For the first time in a very long time, she looked forward to fighting alongside someone else.
~0~
During the Battle of Voi, Liminal forces make perfect use of their environment to clear the way for the more vulnerable human forces. Sirens lure large amounts of susceptible Covenant soldiers to the nearby lake, where the aliens are drowned en-masse by Undines, Scyllas and mermaids.
A general order to stay away from all bodies of water is sent too late to help the forces in Voi.
~0~
0103 Hours, December 11, 2548 (Military Calendar) / Aboard Covenant-Separatist Assault Carrier Seeker of Truth
Installation 00: The Ark
Sangheili warriors were not known for their patience. The rare female warriors even less so. And right now, Supreme Commander Thela 'Vadam's patience was being tested to its absolute limits.
There were humans running around her ship. Humans and their fierce, scarcely-clothed subspecies. And much disgracefully, she could not even hunt them down, for they were of "vital importance" to their current survival.
Why they would ever need those thin-skinned worms was beyond her. Even with Shipmaster Vadum's insistence that they needed allies now that the Prophets had betrayed them so thoroughly, Thela could hardly believe why they would choose the humans of all creatures.
The Great Schism was upon them now, and the Sangheili would forge their own path, with their own blood. Blood that the filthy Jiralhanae had spilled in great quantities. Blood that the Prophets had wasted for countless years on a false conviction.
Blood that she wished to spill right now. For even now, as they emerged above what amounted to the greatest of the Forerunner's creations, she knew that the humans' Demon was getting ready for war.
Thela longed to mount the Demon's head on the wall in 'Vadam's Keep. But no such opportunity was possible. Instead of slaying it on side, both Shipmaster Vadum as the Arbiter had insisted on keeping the Demon as an ally. A comrade in arms, even.
The Supreme Commander snorted at the very thought of that. An Arbiter, seeking to fight alongside a human.
It was dishonorable. She would not stand for it.
She had requested an audience with this Arbiter, this "Hand of the Prophets" who had supposedly enlightened the Sangheili on the Second Halo. He had prevented the Fleet of Retribution from glassing the Flood-infested home world. He had fought alongside humans in the Halo. He had worked with the Demon, multiple times.
He had much to answer for.
Her bridge crew was on edge. They were all comrades in arms, but they had learnt to respect her through physical violence. They knew her better than most. Sometimes, better than she knew herself.
Fearing she would clash with the Arbiter, did they?
The doors behind her opened. The Lekgolo pair did not react.
Ever since the infiltration of Jiralhanae forces seeking to capture her ship, the crew had been on full alert for any signs of treachery. These were dangerous times, after all. Assassinations were still common
As soon as her visitor entered the bridge, her officers stood.
Thela scowled. She hadn't expected the Arbiter's presence to be so imposing that her own warriors would do him that honor.
"I see the Jiralhanae were fools, attempting to overpower you," spoke the Arbiter.
Thela stiffened. She knew that voice.
The uncanny resemblance to her deceased younger brother did not help the Arbiter's case.
"The Arbiter himself. Your timing is commendable, yet your actions worry me," Thela told him without facing him. She would do him that honor if his explanation showed wisdom. "Your apparent comradeship with the Demon is unsettling."
"Our war with the humans was based on lies and deception. Of course, negotiations and alliances never suited you," the Arbiter then replied, most insultingly.
Thela whirled on him, bristling at his choice of words.
She stopped short of lashing out at him when she caught a whiff of a familiar scent. She locked eyes with him and realized that she knew his visage.
So that was the choice of execution the Prophets had decided on.
Thel stared back at her, with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I believe your crew noticed it before you did, sister."
Thela was silent for several long moments, torn between conflicting emotions.
Then she punched him.
~0~
Operation: BLIND FAITH
Installation 04, 262144 lightyears outside the Milky Way galaxy's core
Nearing the Cartographer
"The LZ's through this cave, sir. Watch yourself; got Covenant heavy armor!"
There was nothing quite like watching a Spartan pulling off trick-shots with a sniper rifle. It, like any other weapon in his hands, became a true menace to the Covenant forces attempting to protect the designated LZ. Their infantry fell in droves, leaving behind only the large, distinctive shapes of Wraith mortar tanks.
Commander Lilim Shepard briefly watched the Spartan as he sniped the Covenant infantry from afar, counting the steady crack, crack, crack of his rifle going off.
"I assume you have a plan for that heavy armor, Spartan?" She asked.
"Yes," he patiently answered. He reloaded his sniper without taking his eyes off the scope. "I'll draw its fire and wait for it to happen."
The Elder Devil experienced a brief moment of hesitation. "Wait for…it…to happen?"
"The plan."
As they spoke, another plasma mortar impacted on the entrance of the cave. The massive blast sent shockwaves through the air and Lilim was nearly thrown off her feet by the overpressure.
But the cave held and the heat of the blast was easily absorbed by her armor.
In the distance, a Lamia emerged atop the right side of the cliffs. Lilim caught glimpse of a green flash, a discharge of an alien weapon. A glowing sphere of energy arced through the air, impacted and exploded in a green shockwave.
Two more shots followed and the first Wraith was reduced to molten slag and burning metal.
Shepard could only assume that the Hero of Elysium knew how to wield heavy weapons as well.
"Move out," yelled the Master Chief. "Go, go!"
Behind him, a warthog packed with Liminal soldiers shifted its gears. Its engine roared, its wheels kicked up geysers of dirt and the light reconnaissance vehicle shot forwards like a bullet.
The Spartan started moving as well and Shepard, not willing to lose what might well be the last Spartan mankind had left, quickly followed him. The Master Chief was a force of nature, a whirlwind of destruction and fire, but he wasn't invulnerable. He could get hurt, and Lilim wasn't about to let him die without ever having seen a life outside of war.
The second Wraith turned to bombard the owner of the Fuel Rod Gun atop the cliff with plasma mortars, giving the advancing UNSC forces a brief window of opportunity to strike.
A Brute Prowler shot towards them, as if eager to run them over.
Shepard, trusting the Spartan to do his thing in time, leapt out of the way of the alien vehicle right before it could hit her. She grabbed a hold of the arm of the Brute passenger and slung herself atop the vehicle, using her momentum to throw the Brute out.
By the time she had gotten a good grip on the vehicle and readied her rifle, the Master Chief had already dispatched of the other two aliens, leaving the Prowler in UNSC hands.
"Hang on," the Spartan calmly sad.
The Elder Devil glanced around. "For what purpose?"
The Chief leapt into the driver's seat and started racing towards the second Wraith, braving plasma fire and rapidly-descending mortars.
Lilim managed to understand what sort of strategy the Spartan was employing, right before he rammed the Wraith at full speed.
~0~
UNSC Frigate Forward Unto Dawn lands at the LZ. UNSC Destroyer Iroquois continues to support the Sangheili Fleet, surprising many a Shipmaster at the daring and often-suicidal strategies the Keyes family is renowned for.
…
Harpies and Wyverns land infantry on Covenant Loyalist Scarabs that attempt to stand in the UNSC's way, allowing the superheavy vehicle to be destroyed without casualties.
…
Dracosa Victorias becomes the first known non-Spartan combatant to kill a Brute Chieftain with his own Gravity Hammer.
…
The phrase "the pack will feast on you!" becomes ironic when Killer Hornet squads locate and eliminate cloaked Brute infantry spread out across the interior of the Cartographer.
…
The universe's record for "ETA damn quick" Pelican arrivals gets shattered.
~0~
Third tower around the Prophet of Truth's citadel
Sergeant Major Johnson hefted his assault rifle and eyed the Brute reinforcement that were now approaching they were surrounded. Good; now he could attack in all directions.
"Come on now!" He yelled, accentuating his words with rapid bursts of 7.62mm fire. "Come get some!"
The Brutes did not dare advance on him and make use of their immense physical strength in the close quarters battle that the third tower had become.
Perhaps it had something to do with the very hungry very angry Liminal soldiers on his squad. For some reason, these dumb apes thought that human-looking infantry who could take an entire clip of Spiker ammo without flinching was something to be scared of.
Johnson knew better. The undead commandoes in his group could only violently murder the Brutes; there was no saying what he would do to the aliens if he got his Johnson-hands on them.
"Cursed heathens!" Spat the Brute Captain as an explosion tore one of the zombie ODST's in half.
The big monkey's swearing was more painful to the fallen Corporal than the explosion, as he merely groaned loudly upon watching his legs fly off. "Come on! Not again!" The ODST's torso then proceeded to pluck a grenade from his sachet and lob it over the metal balustrade that served as their cover.
Sergeant Major Johnson took a shot at the flying grenade and sent it straight into one of the fusion coil's standing around. The resulting explosion killed a lance of Grunts and blew the Brute Captain's legs off.
"What's the matter, baby kong!" Shouted Johnson. "Put your legs back on and fight like a real man!"
The Brute failed to put his legs back on and lay there screaming until one of the soldiers shot it.
"Hey Pete, gimme my legs would you?"
"I've got some stitching left…this help?"
"Ah, that's the stuff…"
The zombie took a few steps and proceeded to leave half his left leg behind. "Damnit!"
"You two stay there and patch him up," ordered Johnson. "Polt, we clear?"
"Sir! I can hear Drones buzzing around sir!" Cried the over-eager Kobold. "Permission to serve as bait, sir?"
He loved enthusiastic recruits. "Granted! Kira, get the girls. Dinner's served!"
Private Polt dashed towards the elevator, got shot at by a dozen of the buggers and immediately pulled back, closely followed by an entire swarm of the things.
Johnson waved his own swarm forwards. Sergeant Kira, the swarm-leader of the remaining Killer Hornets, sped past him with such a speed that only a Sergeant Major could keep track of her. She was followed by ten other Hornets, who proceeded to close in on the Drones so fast that the alien bugs couldn't even fire off more than a few needles, which harmlessly bounced off of their carapace.
What happened next could only be described as a massacre. The Hornet-girls violently ripped the Drones to pieces, going straight for death by decapitation as they dispatched of the swarm. Soon, the elevator was littered with scattered body parts, damaged pieces of green carapace and loose heads. And, of course, white patches of blood and entrails.
It was a beautiful sight to behold.
"Charge!" Cried the Sergeant Major and by his command, the elevator sped up a tenfold. It delivered him and his forces straight into the waiting arms of the last Brute Chieftain and his pack.
Said arms were swiftly ripped off as the two Wyverns in his squad went straight for the kill. Wyverns were like Dragon-girls, lacking their natural weapons and making up for that lack of weapons by being about twice as aggressive. No sooner had they latched on to the Chieftain or they were ripping out his guts.
Johnson and the rest of his squad caught the remaining Brutes in a blistering crossfire so powerful, so accurate, that the Forerunner sheaths of glass all shattered under the thundering roar of gunfire. Their charge on the tower culminated in his Ogre heavy weapons specialist beating one of the Brutes to death with its own skull, something which was only physically possible because Johnson permitted it.
Thus it was that the three towers fell.
~0~
The separatist-UNSC alliance launches an assault on the Ark's Citadel where Truth intends to activate the Halo Array. At the same time the former Covenant city High Charity arrives from slipspace and crashes on the Ark. Debris spread from the city-ship helps spread a new Flood infestation on the Ark.
Lacking Will-O-Wisps like those present in Voi, the UNSC has no choice but to fight off the parasite as well.
…
A joint Centraur-Orc charge brings an end to the Covenant light armor, while a joint Scorpion MBT-Spartan-Arbiter assault brings an end to the Covenant heavy armor.
…
Thel 'Vadam executes Truth while John deactivates the Installations. Shortly after that, one villain is traded for another.
…
The Master Chief personally heads to the Flood-infected High Charity, inflecting hundreds of casualties to the Flood as he retrieves Cortana. Thel 'Vadam heads in straight after the Spartan and provides covering fire, allowing the three of them to escape.
…
Installation 04B, the replacement Halo, is fired. Monitor 343 Guilty Spark is unable to kill Sergeant Major Johnson, falsely attributed to the latter's laser eyes.
…
All survivors retreat to the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn and the UNSC Iroquois
…
The UNSC-Separatist alliance returns to Earth.
The Human-Covenant War is over.
…
Black Fang terrorists smuggle several members aboard the Citadel.
~0~
Terminus Systems
Aboard unidentified capital ship
General Arterius glared at the holographic display with nothing but plain hatred in his eyes. He watched the UNSC representatives stand the media to word, explaining all about how they had won the devastating war against the Covenant. The "biggest threat in the galaxy" had been dissolved. And even though there were still portions of the old Covenant left, both Sangheili as Jiralhanae, who wanted to see an end to both humanity as the Citadel Council, the crisis was over.
Fools! Humans, so arrogant, so conceited! Did they not realize that the time of organic civilizations was over? Did they not understand that a far greater threat than the pathetic Covenant waited in dark space?
Of course they didn't. They were beasts, only understanding how to wage war. But their primitive horde of beasts wouldn't help them when the Conduit was found, marking the return of the Reapers.
These organics had no idea of the forces they were about to content with, but it was all the more befitting of their arrogance; that they would be slaughtered by a threat they did not even understand was almost poetic.
General Desolas Arterius was content to watch his army of Geth as The Sovereign set a direct course to their colony, Eden Prime.
~0~
UNSC CODEX ENTRY: SPECIES: NATURE SPIRITS
Some Liminal Species are more mythical than others. Corporeal Monster Species are accepted by almost every organization in the galaxy, safe for a peculiar Turian extremist organization, which to this day is still attempting to dismiss the existence of all Liminal species.
However, the non-corporeal are less known to the galactic community. These "supernatural" or "magical" species can be divided into various categorizations, one of which proved vital to the defense of Earth against the Covenant invaders.
Nature Spirits are noncorporeal Liminal species who are nonetheless capable of physically interfering with their environment. They consider themselves the guardians of nature and all forms of life. These Spirits are sometimes divided into several clades, mistakenly simplified as four "elements".
The Will-O-Wisps and Undines are elemental Spirits with limited control over fire and water , respectively. They are incapable of being hurt by mundane means, though it is observed that an extreme alteration of their environment such as temperature, pH-grade or oxygen can still harm them. Individuals of these Liminal species are generally ill-fitted as soldiers, but are known to be extremely dangerous when provoked. During the Battle of Earth, entire swaths of ground were consumed by controlled forest fires or directed floods, consuming entire divisions of enemy infantry.
~0~
AN: as I've stated at the end of my other Halo/Mass Effect crossover, I've recently gotten some bad news, which can negatively impact my update schedules. Nobody died, nobody got hurt, but it shook me up a lot.
Anyway, we'll finally be getting to our Harem-theme next chapter, where the actual story starts. Ha