_______
"Corporal Katrina Haverson, at your command, sir."
I nodded behind my helmet. "Thanks for the quick save, Corporal."
"Anytime," she replied, sliding her helmet back on.
"So, where're we going?" I asked, grabbing onto a handhold as the gradient of the Falcon's flight increased.
"Back into space to the fleet, sir. The Brutes dropped out about... an hour ago? We've been holding them off, but more re-inforcements have been dropping out, and it's starting to show on the fleet. The general plan is-"
A sudden whine cut off the Corporal, as the Falcon rolled quickly.
"Hang on," yelled the pilot over the intercom. "Incoming flight of Seraphs!"
The craft shook a bit as the pilot pushed it to it's limits, juking between the plasma blasts of the Brute Seraphs. "FUCK!" he yelled, as a plasma bolt slammed into the side of the Falcon, twisting the joystick wildly with his left hand as he vainly pressed a screen with his right. Turning around for a split second, he yelled "Sorry, but I'm going to need you on the weapons! I can't get the defensive weaponry AI online; it must've been damaged by the plasma!"
I jumped up, pushing up against gravity and sliding into one of the gunner seats with consoles in front of them. Grabbing the controls, I noted it was a simple joystick with a trigger, while the screen had an array of different buttons and switches underneath it. Flicking "MANUAL CONTROL", I grabbed the joystick and maneuvered it to the left. The camera, mounted on the chain-coilgun outside, turned left, meaning the interface was connected and it was working.
There were red-rimmed squares signalling where the enemy Seraphs were, so I trained in on one that sped past to the left and lit it up with 25mm DU rounds. The flimsy craft shattered, peppered with litle black holes, and dropped down to the planet below like a stone.
Three of them sped overhead, and I watched as a missile shot out of the fuselage of the Falcon and impacted against the center one, showering the other two with debris. One of the two wingers peeled off, flames trailing from a debris impact. The other one span an abrupt 180 and opened up with its plasma cannons again. The pilot mashed his joystick left, throwing the Falcon into another roll. Grappling with my joystick, I depressed the trigger again, but another dodging maneuver to the right made me lose control, chaingun spewing ammo everywhere, as more plasma blasts rocked the Falcon.
There were still five of the old teardrop-shaped starfighters left of the original ten, and, following the success of the one that just strafed us, they grouped together and started blasting us.
"HOLD ON TIGHT!" yelled the pilot as he swung the Falcon 180 degrees on it's thrusters. Activating the wing-mounted .50 cal guns, he managed to take two of them out before they knew what hit them. Just as the other three fired their first shots, they were spontaneously blown out of the air, one of the Brute pilots actually flying out of the front of its figher and missing our Falcon by centimetres.
"...What in the hell's name was that?"
And, right on cue, a Green Phantom slid out of the clouds...
_______
"Human pilot, let us retreat back to the fleet! There we can combat the Brutes effectively!"
"Roger! I have some high-priority personnel aboard, so I'm going to double time! Can you make your own way there?"
"Affirmative," the Elite pilot growled. "We have more than adequate protection." At this, the three mounted plasma turrets waggled left and right.
"Victor-25, out."
The Elites' reply was cut out by the blasting of the Falcon's Fuel-Air Explosive engines giving it all they had, and the Falcon shot ahead, heading out of the atmosphere...
_______
It was back into space, and back into the maelstorm, as far as I was concerned, remembering our hasty entry. Fighters of Humans, Brutes and Elites spun around and around, blasting at each other endlessly.
Our Falcon dodged and weaved the best it could through the mess, heading for the ship we deployed off; the Nautilus. I stayed on the guns, as did Corporal Haverson, blasting any Brutes that payed too much attention to us, and helping out the occasional Elite or Human pilot in trouble.
Here, a Brute Seraph exploded, tailled by three Manta-class interceptors. There, two ancient Longswords exploded, pinned down by at least three doezen purple Seraphs. A Brute CSS-Battlecruiser exploded right in front of us, sandwiched by two Galaxia-class Destroyers.
"Whoo!" yelled the pilot, sending us full-throttle straight through the massive fireball. In an instand we could feel the searing heat, but the Falcon's armor protected us, coming out the other side with quite a few burn marks on it's armor.
And there it was, the Nautilus. The very first, and, currently, the only ship out of the brand new Nautilus-class Interceptor-Destroyer; a fast, speedy yet heavily armed and armoured Dreadnought. It was sharp and angular, like an arrowhead, albeit bristling with gun turrets, with a massive stern-mounted Fusion Reactor engine, and a never-yet seen before Electron Beam Cannon mounted on the bow.
All of a sudden, another goddamn flight of Seraphs blasted out of the hull of the Brute Cruiser behind us and zoomed towards us, firing wildly. I returned with a brief burst of DU fire, but after a couple of seconds, a red message popped up on the screen signifying me that my turret had run out of ammo.
"I'm empty!" I yelled up front, turning to face the pilot, ripping off my headset.
"Shit, me too!" replied Haverson, twisting around and ripping off her own headset.
"Just hang on! Nautilus, this is Falcon Victor-25, requesting permission to land! I've got bad guys on my six, and my guns are all empty!"
The reply came over the ship intercom. "Roger that, Victor-25. Landing bay Delta-Five is available. Deploying countermeasures against enemy starfighters."
The pilot gulped, turning back to face us for a split-second. "This is gonna be rough! Hang on!"
We slid out of the gunners seats and maneouvered back into the passenger's seats, buckling up tightly.
_______
On the hull of the Nautilus, a hundred little holes opened up, each not wider than fifty centimetres. With a massive, deep ROARRRRRR, a swarm of missiles shoomed out, heading for the Falcon at a phenomenal speed.
______
"Falcon Victor-25, evade in 10...9...8..."
"Strap yourselves in!" the Pilot yelled again, flicking more switches on his control board.
"6....5....4...3....2...1-"
And, at that exact moment, the Falcon pulled up and spun into a barrel roll, while a myriad of AA missiles shot past, exploding into the swarm of Seraphs. Shrapnel flew everywhere, impacting against the hull of the Falcon, making it shake and groan.
But the pilot wasn't fazed, merely gripping the controls and bringing the Falcon back under control. "Uh, Fire Control? Did you really have to go so overboard with the countermeasures?"
"Of course, Flight Lieutenant. We can't have any sort of damage to a Destroyer this pristine, can we?" The pilot snorted.
"Hanger bay D-5 is activating tractor beam, it'll bring you inside the hanger. Fire Control, out."
_______
As soon as we landed on the deck, the great ship rolled, bringing itself parallel to another CSS-class cruiser. Looking out the viewport, lasers and solid munitions flew from the hull of the Nautilus and impacted against the hull of the CSS. Massive holes appeared on the hull, and a large explosion ripped a whole portion of the ship off. Brutes by their tens and hundreds were sucked into the cold vacumn of space.
An anomaly appeared in the fabric of space, a large, black, ominous hole forming. The stars around warped, stratching out.
Out of that hole emerged a gigantic, purple-coloured blob. At least eight kilometres in length, its shields charged up straight away, twelve plasma torpedoes immediately erupting out of it and striking a hapless human frigate group.
"Battle Group Solace! Do you read me? Fleet Admiral, we have incoming hostiles!"
Around the single purple blob, more ruptures in space opened, and a multitude of Assault Carriers and Reverence-class cruisers, and even a few Supercarriers, appeared. Beams of red and blue flew through space as the rest of the UNSC fleet fired upon the Brute fleet. A few Brute ships whose shields had not been up yet exploded, and their carcasses fell towards the planet.
The fleet-com was a cacophony of curses and exclamations.
"Whoa, shit!"
"What the hell is that thing?"
"-Form up! Pelt it with everything we've got!"
A couple of SuperMAC rounds flew into the blob, but were deflected off. "Christ, the thing is strong!"
"All ships, this is Fleet Admiral Fulham! Enact a full withdrawal from combat zone on the double!"
Another voice came on over the intercom. "Negative, Admiral! I still have men down there! They're extracting, but we need to hold out until they can get back into space!"
"Alright, Sergeant, but we can only hold on for another fifteen minutes at the max. I read more Brute ships incoming, just out of extended sensor range!"
"Fifteen is all the time we need."
The captain came on over the ship-wide intercom. "Boys and girls, stap yourselves in. Beam Cannon is charging."
A flurry of activity swept across the flight deck, as ships were magnetically bolted to their racks, or attached to the ground. Ground Crews scurried for strap-down seats.
"Let's go!" yelled the pilot, wasting no time in legging it towards an empty row of seating. We scurried behind him.
Sudeenly, we were lifted off our feet as a massive blast shook the ship. Getting back up and looking up, a massive, green beam erupted from the bow of the ship and sliced through a multitude of Brute ships as if they were no more than melted butter, shields and all. The other UNSC ships took up the opportunity, and those damaged ships were promptly sent spinning towards the planet in a hail of fire.
"Sir! The troops on the ground have entered range of the Brute ships!"
"Roger that! Flight deck, deploy Joker Squadron and Sabot Squadron. Hawk Flight, you are cleared to drop all other duties and escort the gunships back to the Nautilus. We need our men back on board. Get the Aces out there too!"
Large, slingshot-like launch catapaults appeared out of the deck as a rack of fighters popped out of the wall. Sleek and angular, they looked infintely menacing in the light of the bay.
The first fighter popped into the launch mechanism. What came next was phenomenal.
Without a sound, the fighter shot out of the launch, through the force-field, and into the depths of space. Engines already ignited, it banked to the right, tailing a Seraph.
By this time, via the ten launchers installed on the hanger deck, the first squadron was already out. They formed up and shot off, lasers blasting away.
"Christ," the pilot whispered. "Wish I had one of those for my Falcon. Thing's slow as to start up."
Another rack of fighters emerged from the walls.
"Sergeant Powell, Corporal Haverson; you are required on the bridge immediately. GSgt Stacker wishes to talk to you." A purple-tinged avatar popped up from a projecter near them, displaying a man with medium-length brown hair in a blue MJOLNIR suit. His voice was mellow and pleasant. "Flight Lieutenant Harper, you are dismissed. Gsgt Stacker applauds your good work in getting his men safely back, and has applied to transfer you to ODST 85th Air Wing. He asks whether you would like to join. If you would, please report to his quarters in two hours."
The pilot's eyes lit up. "Tell the Sergeant I'll be there right on the dot." He patted us on our shoulders, and walked back to the Falcon, helmet under his arm.
The AI turned to face us. "The Bridge is in that direction." He pointed towards a large personnel lift that rose up into the ceiling of the enormous hanger bay. "It was a pleasure to meet you both. Now, I must return to my duty of monitoring the ship." The AI winked out.
_______
From the planet below, a string of Falcons, Phantoms and some new Sangheili Revenent-class Gunships flew through the enroaching battle, straight towards the Nautilus, dodging Squads of fighters and ships of all kinds, sizes and affiliations.
"Captain, this is Sabot Leader. We have the gunships on wing and are approaching your potision. Joker Squadron is en route, and I read the Hawks as coming up on my six right about now. Aces are actively defending. ETA to the Nautilus, approximately five minutes.... Christ! Where'd they come from? Get them off our backs!"
"Flight Lieutenant! What is your situation?"
"We've got enemy bogies on our six! Evade! EVADE!"
"Sabot Lead, this is Joker-Six, We're forming up behind you! Hold steady!"
"Copy!"
"Alright, bogies have been driven off. Get the hell outta here! Captain Keller, ETA two minutes and closing! Prepare Anti-Starfighter defences!"
"Recieved, Joker Lead."
_______
We sprinted through the bay, arriving at the personnel elevator. The light on the side indicated it was still three levels below us.
I jammed the button down, to no avail. "Fuck!"
The corporal motioned. "Maybe we should just wait." A hydraulic noise came from within the shaft in front of us, and I stopped pressing the button. We could see the lift now, but it was slow as hell. It looked like it'd take another solid minLoute or two to-
A blast hit the ship. Loose items flew everywhere, and we flew off our feet, landing on our backsides.
"Omni, damage assessment!" The Captain's voice rang over the intercom.
"Our shields took the brunt of that blast, Captain. It appears that the large ship has some kind of Super Energy Projector. Minordamage to decks E through h.
"Gunners, give it everything we've got!"
Ignoring the lift for the time being, we quickly strode over to the airlock and stared out.
The whole ship shook as every available shipboard weapon was fired at the large blob, including the Beam cannon. However, the blob somehow managed to shrug it off, shields flaring and changing colour from blue to red, but not dissipating. It simply fixed its attention on the pair of Galaxia-class Destroyers from before, raking them with twin blasts of the Super Energy Projector. They drifted off, shields all but destroyed, leaking atmosphere and personnel.
"Christ!"
"Despondant! Renegade! Do you read, over!"
"bzzt...heavily damag...bzzt...req...assist..."
"Stacker, have your personnel returned yet? We need to move, now!"
"They're almost back-"
A flaming, half-destroyed Falcon flew through the Airlock merely a couple of metres above ou heads, unceremoniusly smashing onto the deck of the ship. Trailing flames and sparks, it skidded its way across the deck, leaving shallow gouges in the Titanium-A.
"They're back!" someone screamed, and, then next second, a Revenant flew through the airlock, this one managing to land itself at the back of the hanger.
A flotilla of ships entered the airlock, all in various states of damage. Some managed to land, others just careened across the deck.
I ran up to the nearest intercom, and hit "TRANSMIT". "They're back! Let's go!" I screamed.
In an instant, the whole ship lurched again, and I fell again, smashing my head into the deck...
_______