The Long Road Home

by PMOHWinters

In a bleak alternate universe, Humanity is banished from Earth and forced to roam the cold, unforgiving void. With their homeworld lost, it is up to a brave few to tread the dangerous path to reclaim what is rightfully theirs.

12. Fear and Surprise Mostly Surprise

Chapter 12: Fear and Surprise…. Mostly Surprise

Jiles Station

"Holy crap, where did all these guys come from?" Kay gaped as they faced a line of over two dozen very unhappy Templars.

"You'd think we'd notice them on the way in." Kyle scratched his head in amazement. "I mean, I never exactly viewed Templars as the subtle type."

"Yeah, I thought you could sense Templars light years away from their overabundance of idiocy and self-righteousness." Kay looked at Lynn.

"Well yeah, assuming that I'm not standing inside a station filled with hundreds of lonely, nasty individuals who are constantly imagining me naked." Lynn pouted.

It struck John as odd that Lynn, Kyle, and Kay were more surprised and concerned on how the Templars were able to ambush them, rather than the fact that they were being held up by two dozen of them. It was quite apparent that they knew something that he didn't. Sure enough, it wasn't long until the Templars themselves were held up, by literally every single scav, smuggler, and thief around them. If they all had something in common, it was their dislike of authority, and their even greater hatred of Templars in particular. It really didn't take all that much for the whole affair to quickly turn into a massive and bloody free for all. Kyle, Kay, John, and Lynn took cover behind a pile of crates as they waited out the brutal fighting. Laron huddled on the ground next to them.

"Well, I hope you're happy." Kyle grunted at Laron. "You've started the obligatory gunfight today. How do you feel?"

"Never a dull moment." Kay shook her head.

"Wait." John cocked his head as a stray pistol round bounced off of his shoulder. "Are you telling me this is common?"

"Several times a day." Kyle shrugged and blind-fired his rifle over the top of the crates. "We're usually good enough to keep out of it, but when somebody we know pisses off a bunch of religious fanatics…"

"I said I was sorry!" Laron groaned.

"Okay, normally I'd lead, but since we've got Lynn here, I thought we'd might defer to her." Kyle glanced at Lynn. "That okay with you?"

"Just don't fall behind." Lynn grinned. "I suggest we start moving now."

The next few minutes were a frantic sequence of short sprints to and from cover, ducking under weapons fire and avoiding the main areas of conflict. Lynn proved to be incredibly adept at predicting where the momentum of the battle was headed and how to avoid it, leading the group to relative safety without a single scratch. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the rest of the station. Just because they were crazy religious fanatics didn't mean the Templars lacked fighting ability. By the time the last Templar fell, there were dozens of dead or wounded rogues piled up around them. Now, a separate set of undesirables swept it, not to help the victims, but to help themselves on the spoils of battle. Like a pack of hyenas, they rushed in, grabbing anything of value they could find off of the bodies, even if they were still alive. The rest of the rogues and scoundrels who just starting coming through didn't even bat an eye. On Jiles Station, such things were as common as rain in the jungle. If the bodies weren't claimed, it wouldn't be long until they were picked up by the "cleaners" and recycled. On a lone space station, there wasn't the luxury of ignoring waste, so any resources that could be obtained easily was a blessing.

"I hope that's all of them." Laron sighed.

"Oh no, there's always more of them." Kyle shook his head. "There are always more of them. You ever see Templars running around in small groups?"

"I was just trying to be a little positive."

"Uh huh, coming from the guy who pissed them off in the first place."

"Shut it." Kay said sternly."We're not out of the clear yet."

"She's right." John nodded. "There's no guarantee that we won't get ambushed again. I suggest we get moving."

"Yeah." Lynn agreed. "I can sense more Templars around."

"Okay, we'll head back to the Nietzsche and try to hammer out a plan." Kyle holstered his weapons. "Let's hope we can salvage something out of this."

Nietzsche

"No can do." Laron shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Kyle said, exasperated. "Why can't we do it?"

"You think Jiles is going to lean back and relax now that he knows there are Templars on his station? Oh no, he's going to crank up the heat. My infiltration plan hinges on how alert his security staff is, and the presence of god-fearing psychos tends to perk them up a bit."

"Is there any other way in?" Kay asked.

"No, not realistically." Laron shrugged.

"Explain." John said simply. Even his tone was powerful enough to make Laron quiver.

"Okay, for you newbies, I'll give you the lowdown on how Jiles runs things." Laron took deep breath. "Basically, Governor Jiles isn't technically a governor, he's more like a dictator. Rule of the station is passed down through family blood, and the current Governor is just the latest in a long line of descendants. Only he has access to the station's primary systems through a gene-key, so he can pretty much control anything. Naturally, this makes him very powerful and he can call all the shots."

"If he's such a dictator, why do people come here?" John asked.

"Think about it. The only other places rogues like me can take shelter in is this place. Exile fleets would turn as away, arrest us, or kill us on sight, and setting up shop on any decent terrestrial planet is just asking to get glassed by a Covenant armada."

"That's logical." Halsey agreed, her electronic voice echoing throughout the room. "This particular station has long been known for rebel activity. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that they would also shelter the undesirables of society if it served their interests."

"That's right." Laron leaned back in his seat. "In any case, having power means you have to protect it. Jiles basically cuts off an entire section of the station and keeps it for himself. It's nothing but his personal living quarters and layers upon layers upon layers of security. He doesn't want anybody to challenge his rule on the station or try to get a shot at him, so he basically stays in his shell and never even steps foot in the outside world. As long as the customers keep coming and spending money in his station, he doesn't care what happens."

"So a frontal attack is out of the question."

"Definitely." Laron glanced at the Spartan. "Even with you, Kyle, and that telepath of yours, you'd probably just get swarmed with guards."

"So then what are our options?" Melissa asked, her red eyes focused on Laron.

"We're probably just going to have to batten down the hatches and wait till this whole matter blows over."

"Are you sure? I really don't want to spend any more time in this place than I have to." Lynn blanched.

"Sorry miss, but that's how things have to be."

"I guess there's no getting around it." Kyle sighed and got up from his seat. Things definitely weren't going as planned. "I totally blame all of this on you, Laron. If you can't keep that impulsive nature of yours in check, I swear, I'll have John break every bone in your body, right John?"

John cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "Gladly."

Laron gulped, his terror and anxiousness clearly permeated the air around him. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Kyle sighed. "In that case, we'd better find something to do for the next few days, because there's no telling when we can start moving again."

Koren IV, Calistan System

Two Imperial Covenant Frigates Light's Justice and Warden's Bow were merely following their standard patrol route in the Calistan System, standing ever vigilant against any potential threats against their main orbital base, Pilgrim's Rest. So far, just like the past few months they were on this patrol route, there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was just another day out in the void of open space.

Of course, Tantalus was bored out of his mind. Unlike the glorious assignments his fellow battle-brothers were receiving, Tantalus saw no merit or excitement in routine patrol. Like every other ambitious Jiralhanae Shipmaster, Tantalus had dreams of being something more than a soldier drone, forever doomed to patrol the same old route over and over again, or serving as the rear or flank guard for a larger battle force. Tantalus ached to have a chance to prove himself, but such chances were rare now these days. Conflicts with the heretic Sangheili and their allies were beginning to ramp down in preparation for the long awaited truce, and the Exiles were just as difficult to find as ever. Tantalus felt as if the galaxy was moving towards a time where it no longer needed Jiralhanae like him. Already, the Prophets were looking to ease tensions on the home fronts and lick their wounds from the massive and costly losses they had accumulated over the past two centuries. Regulations were now being more strictly enforced, and the more aggressive and bold officers were slowly but surely being cycled out and replaced by more cautious commanders who were less likely to throw away the safety of their ships and soldiers on a whim. Yes, the galaxy was slowly changing, and Tantalus wasn't sure if he liked the direction it was going. After all, the Jiralhanae had long thrived on conflict and war. If there was nobody left to fight, what would they do?

"Shipmaster! We have an anomalous contact on our sensors!" One of the sensor officers cried.

"Show me!" Tantalus' heart raced. An enemy attack? This could be the long awaited chance that he had craved for.

"It's in visual range, bringing up the image now!"

Tantalus' eyes glinted in anticipating as they swept over the holographic representation of the anomaly. From the looks of it, it was an Exile ship. It looked like a civilian ship, doubtless it had gotten separated or lost from the main fleet and was wandering around the system trying to find its bearings. Tantalus took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and said, "Does Warden's Bow know about this?"

"Yes, Shipmaster!" The sensor officer replied. "We've already sent them the sensor data."

"Good." Tantalus nodded and made a sweeping motion, pointing out of the viewport. "Full speed ahead. It looks like we'll be having some entertainment after all!"

Tantalus smiled as he heard the crew cheer happily. They were just as bored as he was and just as excited about the prospect of breaking away from the dull monotony of system patrol. However, his smile died just as quickly as Warden's Bow, when the once glorious frigate suddenly exploded in a firestorm of nuclear energy. The heat and shockwave from the blast struck Light's Justice before its shields were fully powered up, rocking the entire ship and sending crewmen tumbling over.

Tantalus, however, kept his footing and screamed, "Status report! What happened!?"

"I don't know, Shipmaster!" The sensor officer cried in panic. "I don't see anything on the sensors!"

"What about the Exile ship?" Tantalus asked.

"Gone, Shipmaster! It must have jumped to Slipspace!"

Tantalus seethed and slammed his fist on the control console. They had fallen into a trap, and the Exile forces were already swarming all over him. "Power up shields and weapons! Find me a target and destroy it!"

Valhalla

"Ranger, Sojourner, and Voyager have confirmed destruction of the first target." Keyes' comm officer announced. "Second target is still active, I repeat, second target is still active."

"What? How's that?" Keyes asked. "We should have destroyed both ships at once."

"Ranger reports that its nuclear warhead failed to detonate."

"That's troublesome." Keyes sighed. "Eurale, what's your battle assessment?"

"Additional attacks by the Ghillie-class frigates are unadvisable." Eurale chimed dejectedly. "They lack the firepower for direct confrontation and the Covenant ship has most likely fully powered its shields by now. Additional attacks will likely reveal their positions while dealing minimal damage."

Ghillie-class frigates were yet another combat asset within the Fleet, and yet another innovation provided by the Somm. Unlike more conventional warships, Ghillie-class frigates were equipped with extensive stealth systems. They hid by using optical camouflage identical to that used in combat armor and small transports, though scaled up significantly. They also used specialized heat sinks and arrays to capture emissions and store them, making them invisible not only to the naked eye, but to conventional sensors as well. Though it used up huge amounts of power, space, and could only operate for short periods of time, having such large, undetectable ships had their uses. Besides the usual reconnaissance missions, Keyes had found that the Ghillie-class frigates were incredibly effective at ambushes, hit and run attacks, and preemptive strikes. They could get in close to the enemy formations undetected, release their payloads, and then jump out before anybody knew what was happening.

However, the frigates lacked powerful shielding and weaponry for ships their size, and could never stand up in a head on assault with equal size ships. They were heavily dependent on surprise as their primary weapon, which was why Keyes was reluctant to have his frigates attack again. Fortunately, he had accounted for this possibility.

"Eurale, pull back the frigates and order Battle Group Delta to handle the Covenant frigate."

"Done, Admiral."

From his seat in the bridge, Keyes watched the tactical display carefully. The blue dots that signified the three Ghillie-class frigates winked out as they made the jump to Slipspace while four more winked into existence, surrounding the single red dot. The four blue dots were Battle Group Delta, which consisted of a destroyer and three frigates, which was more than enough to handle a single frigate. Meanwhile, he focused on making sure the main attack force was ready. The coordination and timing of this attack had to be precise, and the entire ordeal had to be over before reinforcements could be called in.

"Should we continue monitoring the situation?" Eurale asked.

"I'm sure Captain Anders can handle himself. He's a big boy now." Keyes grinned. He remembered how Anders would always complain about the "old man" looking over his shoulder. "Let's focus on the main battle groups."

"Yes, Admiral."

Light's Justice

Tantalus stumbled slightly as his ship was bombarded with another volley of weapons fire. He realized that he was in a very bad situation right now. He was outnumbered, surrounded, and taking a pounding. He had tried to send a message to Pilgrim's Rest for aid, but all of his signals were being jammed. The Exile ships did not let up their fire and his shields were quickly failing. His weapon crews were busy trying to return fire, but trying to divide the ship's rapidly depleting number of operational weapons among four different targets proved to be a difficult task.

Suddenly, among the exploding machinery and control consoles and dying crewmen, Tantalus had an epiphany, and he couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his situation. Here he was, continually craving and hoping for combat and a chance for glory, and he now got what he had wished for.

However, Tantalus did not have much time to convey this realization on to anybody else. Once Light's Justice's shields failed, the Exile Saber-class destroyer Dupont lined up with the Covenant warship. Once Captain Anders gave the order, Dupont fired its MAC, sending five successive anti-ship rounds drilling straight into Light's Justice. The slugs tore through the unprotected ship with impunity, completely annihilating the entire ship. Satisfied with their job, Battle Group Delta reformed and made the jump to Slipspace. The hole in the Covenant patrol net meant that the Exile fleet could jump in and attack Pilgrim's Rest with a significantly lower chance of detection, at least for a short time.

Pilgrim's Rest

Pilgrim's Rest by all accounts was a formidable target for any hostile fleet. Armed with dozens of plasma turrets along with dozens of stationary satellite defenses and a roughly forty assorted ships, However, by fortune or design (in Keyes' case, most likely design), the vast majority of the Covenant fleet was stationed in the shipyards and docks for a routine overhaul cycle. The moment Exile Fleet Earth jumped into the system, over half of the defensive fleet were unable to respond. The moment Exile Fleet Earth reverted back into realspace, every ship already knew what to do. A massive volley of MAC rounds cut a swath through the Covenant fleet clearing a path straight into Pilgrim's Rest.

Surprised and caught off guard, the Covenant only managed to rally a dozen ships in a makeshift defense. It was a paltry obstacle for a primed and battle ready fleet of nearly thirty ships of assorted sizes and classes. The smaller Covenant frigates and destroyers didn't stand much of chance against the volume of MAC, particle beam, and missile fire. However, there were still three heavy cruisers intact and operational, making them the biggest threat.

"Eurale, what's the combat status on those cruisers?" Keyes asked as he eyed the trio of enemy warships in the distance.

"Combat rating for all three ships averages at around ninety five percent effectiveness. All primary systems are still operational. I recommend extreme caution."

Keyes sighed at the obvious piece of advice. "Alright, we're taking no chances with this. Have Pegasus, Elincia, Apollo, and Agincourt engage the cruisers. The rest of the fleet continues with the primary objective."

Pegasus, Elincia, Apollo, and Agincourt were Exile Fleet Earth's four most powerful heavy cruisers, the Odin-class, and therefore the most valuable and revered ships in the fleet. Each ship alone was enough to take on a small Covenant task force and could easily slug it out with the relatively lower quality Covenant cruisers. Four Odin-classes heavy cruisers against three Covenant cruisers was overkill, but Keyes wanted those ships dealt with before additional Covenant reinforcements could arrive.

"What about us, sir?" Jillian asked from her command console.

"I think it's time we put the Valhalla through its paces." Keyes grinned. "Put us in formation and power weapons and shields."

"Yes sir." Jillian grinned. She and the rest of the crew were eager to see just what the Valhalla could do in an actual combat situation. Either way, the Covenant were going to have all hell rained down on them.

"I'm detecting plasma energy signatures closing in on our position." Eurale announced. "The energy signatures match that of Covenant plasma torpedoes."

"Shields at full power, brace for impact!" Keyes ordered. He tensed as he prepared for the imminent impact of the plasma torpedoes, but all he felt was a dull thud, like the ship had been struck by a giant pillow.

"Did they miss?" Keyes asked.

"No sir, all four shots hit us." Jillian said, just as perplexed. "I'm running the damage reports and everything says that we've only lost forty two percent of our shield power."

"I'm receiving minor damage reports from the other ships." Eurale added.

"State of the art shields, Admiral." Tuuran, who was standing beside Keyes, grinned. "A redundant system of multiple shield layers with overlapping protection. It's a more efficient and effective way to protect a ship."

"My, this ship certainly is full of surprises." Keyes mused, but it was now time to test Valhalla's offensive capabilities. "Return fire!"

Unlike the older model Odin-class cruisers, Tuuran had boasted that the Alastor-class's MACs could fire five consecutive rounds instead of the standard three. This meant that while the Odin-class could fire up to six MAC rounds from their two MACs, an Alastor-class with its three MACs could fire up to fifteen rounds. This point was proven when the Valhalla single-handedly annihilated the closest Covenant cruiser, shredding it to pieces. The last two cruisers were taken apart by the other cruisers, but not as cleanly or quickly as the Valhalla.

"A wonderful ship we've got here." Keyes grinned. "I'm pretty sure they didn't even know what hit them."

"We aim to please." Tuuran nodded in amusment.

"Eurale, give me a status report on the rest of the fleet." Keyes said.

"At once."

Keyes looked at his tactical display and was relieved to see that the attack plan was running smoothly. The capital ships hung back just out of the effective range of the Covenant station's plasma turrets, bombarding the station with their long range MAC volleys. Meanwhile, squadrons of Scimitar Interceptors and Claymore Heavy Bombers engaged the station like a swarm of locusts. While the Scimitars tied up the defensive screen of Seraphs, the Claymores basically had free reign to wreak havoc on Pilgrim's Rest. Claymores were rather large, unwieldy two seater fighters. Their sheer size and slow speed made them poor candidates for dogfighting, but that really wasn't their purpose. Claymores specialized in pounding large targets like capital ships or fixed positions. They were loaded down with missiles, bombs, and in the old days, a miniature belly mounted MAC . While incredibly effective against large targets, the MAC cannon and the accompanying ammunition was extremely heavy, and the weapon was basically useless once all of the rounds were expended. Now, however, the newer model Claymores had a massive particle laser mounted where the MAC once stood, giving them devastating firepower without the issues of weight and ammunition. The Claymores used these weapons to a deadly effect, pounding vital hardpoints on the Covenant station such as weapons emplacements, shield generators, sensor towers, and command posts, as evidenced from the countless crimson twinkles of light peppering the station. Keyes then caught a massive chain of secondary explosions ripple across one end of the station. Whether by luck or skill, a Claymore pilot had managed to fire a missile into an open Seraph bay, igniting the plasma energy reserves within.

There were multiple smaller explosions as the Covenant ships docked in the station attempted to break free from the dying station. The few that managed to escape the murderous Claymore bombing runs had to deal with the ring of Exile warships ringing the station. After a few minutes, Keyes felt that enough of the station's primary weapons were out of commission and gave the go ahead for the rest of the fleet to close in. The Exile ships eager rushed in for the kill, firing everything they had. Pilgrim's Rest began to break up as the superstructure failed under the strain of multiple weapon hits. Fires raged across the areas that still had air, and more and more explosions began to rip large portions of the station apart. By the time the first Covenant reinforcements began to show up, the station as already a flaming wreck.

"Admiral, I am detecting over ninety Slipspace signatures on the far side of the system. Sensor shadows and energy signatures match that of Covenant ships."

"It looks like we've overstayed our welcome." Keyes said. "Tell the ships to disengage and recover their fighters and any extra-vehicular crew. Once they do that make the jump to the rendezvous point."

"Done, Admiral."

"The Imperium can't ignore us now." Jillian said as the Valhalla began to speed up in preparation for the Slipspace jump. "Once they figure out what's happened, they'll come back, and in greater numbers."

"But not for the time being." Keyes said grimly. "We've neutered their influence in this area. It will give us some more time."

"Time for what?"

"I honestly don't know yet." Keyes admitted. Right now, he couldn't shake off the ugly feeling that all he had accomplished today was delay the inevitable.

Riftseeker

For the fifth time, Ackerson pored through the data he and his men had drawn from the far corners of the galaxy, looking for any sign of the whereabouts of his elusive quarry.

"Where are you?" Ackerson asked himself, wondering where in this vast dark galaxy Lynn was hiding. If there was one thing she was good at, it was eluding her pursuit.

"Sir." One of Ackerson's data analysts stepped into the room. "I think we may have found something."

"Tell me." Ackerson said brusquely.

"We've managed to intercept some rather… urgent Templar transmissions."

"Templars?" Ackerson was aware of those religious nuts. They weren't terribly bright or rational, but in his line of work, those could be useful traits at times. "What did they say and what do they have to do with us?"

"It appears that they've run into 'Her' at Jiles Station." The analyst reported. "Appears they're in a tight spot and have requested reinforcements from their fleet."

"Ah." Ackerson nodded and smiled. Fortune was smiling upon him."So our little telepathic friend appears to have taken shelter in that poor excuse of a station."

"But sir, the Templars already have a presence there and if this information is true, more are on their way. We run into them we'll be in a tough spot."

"Just be patient, Rifterseeker is a fast ship. We'll be able to reach her before they do. Tell the Captain to set course to Jiles Station at full speed."

With that, Ackerson leaned back in his chair and smiled. Yes, fortune was definitely on his side now. He'd catch that rebellious little brat, one way or another.