Chapter 11: Home

UNSC Heroic Deed; In orbit above Reach; January 1, 2558, 12:02am

The mess hall was crowded with celebrating Marines and Spartans, all starting the new year with booze. Everyone execpt Lasky, Lord Hood, and Commander Palmer was drunker than they ever thought possible.

Palmer looked down at the holographic display. "Sir, the only option is to get back to the Infinity. We then hightail out of the system until the ship is at 100%."

"I think that our captian should help make the plan, but he's locked in his room," Hood said guesturing to the captain's quarters. It had almost been a week since any of them had seen Lasky. Palmer walked over and banged on the door. No response.

"Override the security code," Hood ordered the shipboard AI. Lasky's door slid into the roof, revealing the room to be empty. There was a note on the desk, between an empty whiskey bottle and an open Bible. It was addressed to Hood.

"Slipspace rupture detected." The AI said, completely emotionless. Hood stared out the window into the vast space, as a UNSC frigate came out of slipspace. "This is the UNSC Legend, returing to battle group...I'm not sure which one, though."

"To whom am I speaking?" Hood asked.

"Uh, this is Lachlan S-6784. I just need to point out that-"

"Could you explain the reasoning behind the unauthorized slipspace jump?"

"Well, you see, Chief got to thinking and-"

"Put John on the comms, now." Hood ordred, cutting off Lachlan for the second time.

"Uh, I'm afraid that he's unavailable at this time, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"He's kinda on Requiem. So, yeah."

Hood stroked his chin. This had gotten bad fast. What was he doing on Requiem? Without John, they didn't have too much of a chance. "Commander Palmer, as soon as the troops are sober, we're going with your plan to retake the Infinity." Palmer nodded, and went to plan out some last details. "Lachlan, come aboard my ship."

"Permission to get drunk as hell, sir?"

"Why not? Everyone else is." Hood cut the connection as Palmer handed him the note. It was written on the back of the whiskey bottle's label, and was pretty scratchy.

It read: I left without letting anyone know, maily because you wouldn't allow what I was going to do. I am heading back to the Infinity in an attempt to take it back. If I succeed, then I will be back. If not, so long, Lord Hood.

-Captain Thomas Lasky

UNSC Heroic Deed Docking Bay 94, January 1, 2558, 12:19am

Lachlan stepped out of the Pelican that had been sent to pick him up. As he headed for the mess hall, the pilots that had flown him back ran in front of him, obiviously wanting to get back to the party.

Lachlan stood still after they left, listening to the silence that overcame the ship. For the first time he could remember, the ship was quiet. Well, not if you went to the mess hall.

"I could use your help, Spartan," Lasky said, as he came out from hiding behind a few crates. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his uniform was slightly wrinked. Lachlan had never seen the captian like this before.

"What do you need me to do, sir?" the Spartan asked, tucking his helmet under his arm.

Lasky pointed to a Longsword that was in the hanger. It was larger than the rest of the Longswords, and this one was modified to be an shuttle for the Sangheili/Human peace talks. It sported no weapons of any kind, but it had its own slipspace engine, and a cryo-bay for eight. "I need you to fly that for me. I'm still slightly drunk, and I need someone to fly me to the Infinity."

"Sir, that's siuicide. There are at least two thousand Covenant ships there now," Lachlan told him. To him, it was quite obivious that Lasky was still drunk.

"I order you to do it. You wouldn't go against a direct command, would you?"

"No, sir."

"Then fly that ship!"

Seattle, Former USA, ONI Research Lab, January 1, 2558, 12:34am

"Watch out!" The beam clipped the Marines neck, burning the flesh. He fell to the ground screaming, until a second beam hit him. Sargeant Mike Creston sighed. Another man down. His squad had been among those tasked with protecting the ONI lab here, and the geeks were turning on a teleporter, planning to use it as an escape route.

He had seen at least half of his squad cut down, and things were looking pretty bleak. "Success!" One of the geeks ran into the room, motioning to the Marines. "The portal is working! We can leave!" His team sighed, releasing the breaths that they had been holding. Right then, the facility shook with an explosion, and several more Elites came pouring through the new hole in the wall.

"Run!" Creston ordered his remaining men. They all began a every-man-for-himself charge to the portal. Creston tripped over the dead body of the Marine that had just gotten shot down. His SAW clattered to the ground a few feet away as he threw his arms out to catch himself. He reached for it, and an Elite kicked him over, and raised it sword for the strike.

A large, dog-like silver creature jumped out of no where, and grabbed the Elite with one of its claws in mid-air. The momentum it had dragged the Elite to the ground, and the creature shot the down alien with a rapid-fire weapon that seemed to be in its mouth.

A swarm of more Elites ran into the room, only to be cut down by flying red balls that hit the mob. The Elites flew backward dead, and their bodies disintigrated into particles of orange light that scattered in the air.

Creston looked over to the source of the shot, and it was something he recognized. A Promethean Knight. He had seen some of the reports that had been filed by Marines who had encountered Knights. Most had barely survived, or even fled the fight. But Knights were against humans, right? Then why...?

Creston felt himself getting pulled backward, toward the portal, and he looked back. His eyes widened in shock when he saw his assistor. Spartan 117. The Spartan 117.

John pulled the Marine by the collar back to the portal, and tossed him in. He rasied his Assault Rifle, but the Promethean Knights had already cleared the room. They were coming out in single file almost non-stop, and a Knight Commander, with eyes glowing blue wandered over to him.

"You know, Reclaimer, some have said that Prometheans are the ultimate fighting force in the galaxy," Spark said, from his new Promethean body. He had inserted himself into the place that Watchers came from, in the backs of Knights, and it was easy for him to take control.

"Yeah," John said. "And I killed several hundred single-handedly." He walked over to the hole in the wall, and looked out. They were roughly fifty stories up, and the Elites had most likely jumped from a Phantom. Down in the streets, red flashes of the Forerunner weapons could be seen, and Cruisers were floating in the sky harmelessly, not glassing or deploying troops.

"Odd," Spark commented. "I'm picking up traces of hard light. Large concentrations coming from the ships."

"They're using hard light as a shielding system?" John asked.

"No. They are hard light. Fake ships."