I know that the events between the third and fourth halo games were really only four years apart but in order to make this work I had to make it a minimum of eight years. Hope you enjoy it anyway.
Eight years after Jones arrives on the Sangheili planet.
"Sir we can't hold this line over!" Jones shouted into the radio's handset.
"Sergeant you are going to have to hold your position," The voice on the other end said. "Reinforcements are inbound now but you have to hold until they get there."
"Sir be advised we are outnumbered, out gunned and running out of ammunition over!" Jones explained.
"Understood sergeant but there is nothing we can do, you are on your own till the reinforcements arrive," The voice explained. "Out."
"No goddamn it not again!" Jones shouted into the handset. "We are taking heavy casualties we need air support, fire support, fucking something!" After several seconds of silence. "I know you can fucking hear me say something!...Fine fuck you to!" Jones threw the handset to the ground and picked up his assault rifle before running back to the line. Diving behind a cluster of sandbags that were being pelted by plasma fire Jones shoulder his rifle and fired at the incoming Covenant forces.
With a gasp Jones awoke staring at the dark ceiling covered in a cold sweat. Jones slowly sat up and looked to his right to make sure he hadn't woken Aima Kalmare now Aima Jones. Jones had been correct and he had fallen in love very quickly with Aima after he accepted the fact that it would never work with Yuka. They had been married a few months after they meet the ceremony was a small affair as Aima father was a sword bearer Sangheili and her mother raised her alone. Then Jones hadn't known anyone leaving the only ones to show up was Aima's mother, the Hamanee family and Jones's file members: Fulsamee, Rolamnee, Mortumee and Putumee. Although he still had some feelings for Yuka that only made him hate himself for even thinking of her instead of his wife. He picked up his watch from the night stand and looked at the time. The days on the planet were longer but that was the beauty of his watch it could be changed to match a planet's day. After humans left Earth making watches that only used 24 hour days was stupid since most colonized planets weren't on 24 hour days.
It was close enough to the time he normal woke up so he carefully got out of the bed as not to wake Aima. He walked to his bathroom and relived himself before looking himself in the mirror. Though not in the military anymore he still cut his hair close to his skull but now sported a neatly trimmed goatee. He shaved his cheeks and under his chin to maintain the clean cut look before he brushed his teeth using his tooth brush he was issued form the UNSCMC and the dental hygiene paste the Sangheilis used. It tasted horrible and didn't really whiten his teeth but he hadn't had a problem with his teeth so far.
That taken care of he walked out and into the bedroom and crept to his closet and opened the door. Finding cloths on this planet that fit him was tricky so what he did was use their cloths as patches and alterations to his uniforms. He pulled out his work uniform that Aima had washed and neatly folded. This pair of pants was more patches then original material, after pulling them on he tucked in one of his undershirts that had faded from olive drab to a light brown. He then put on his uniform jacket that had just as many patches and he had cut the selves back so they stopped just before his elbows. Pulling on his faded and dust stained patrol cap before he pulled out his last item his now even more worn and falling apart combat boots. Finding foot wear was even harder in fact he had been completely unsuccessful not evening finding something that he could alliterate. So his boots were held together with duct tape and glue.
Now fully dressed he slowly walked down the stairs and to the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast of cold leftovers from last night's dinner. He was about to step outside when he saw the light on the laptop capable of across space commutation that Captain McKnight had sent him was blinking. With a puzzled look across his face he walked over to it and sat in the chair in front of the computer. He enter his password and the screen came to life the face of Captain McKnight filling the screen.
"Gunnery Sergeant Allen Jones how the hell are you?" He asked smiling.
"Captain McKnight," Jones said also smiling. "I am doing fine how are you?" The smile on McKnight's face slowly faded as he flicked his eyes left and right.
"I'm sorry son I didn't understand a word you just said," McKnight explained. Jones cursed inside his head. It had been so long since he had spoken English that he forgot it wasn't his default language anymore.
"Sorry sir," Jones said switching effortlessly to English. "I'm fine how have you been Captain?"
"That's admiral now," McKnight corrected Jones.
"A full admiral in only eight years impressive," Jones said.
"I didn't wake you did I?" Admiral McKnight asked.
"I was already awake sir but my family is still sleeping however," Jones explained. "So how are things in the UNSC?"
"Well we found the Forward onto Dawn to include the Spartan alive and his AI roughly four years ago," McKnight explained.
"Four years ago what have you had the poor bastard doing?" Jones asked truly surprised they had found the legendary Spartan yet alone alive.
"Medical and mental exams mostly," McKnight explained. "Of course we also have done stress and stability tests on the AI as well."
"And?" Jones coaxed.
"The Spartan pasted with fly colors the AI on the other hand," McKnight said clearly having given a lot of thought to the subject. "Passed just inside the boarder lines of the acceptable tolerances."
"I see anything else?" Jones asked.
"Look I didn't contact you to discuss the Spartan or his AI," McKnight said. "After eight years of a restless peace there has been rumors of Covenant sympathizers growing in number."
"That has been the rumor since the end of the war sir," Jones said.
"I now but things are different this time," McKnight explained. "We have real evidence this time that this so called 'Storm Covenant' is strong in number and has hostile intent." McKnight hesitated at the next part and looked truly disheartened. "The reserves are being called up both active...and inactive." Jones sat back heavily into his chair his mouth agape. "I wish these bastards could have just wanted two more years. I really do."
"I'm sorry sir I can't do it," Jones said firmly the color gone from his face. "Things are different now. These Sangheili uh Elites would not go against our pact. Plus I have a wife now and...and I have a son sir. I can't leave them not now." McKnight's eyes widen when he found out he had a son and then a smile slow spread across his face.
"I guessed as much," McKnight said. "That's well I'm sorry to inform you Gunnery Sergeant Allen Jones that you have failed your yearly mental exam and are unfit for active duty. The reason for your failure is PTSD caused from years of combat during several conflicts. This being the case you have been removed from the inactive reserves list and placed on retirement states with full benefits entitled to you from the UNSCMC."
"Sir I don't know what to say," Jones said relief flooding through his body. "But sir I haven't taken a mental exam since I left the core."
"I know," McKnight said with a smile and the look that every member in the military comes to know as the 'what they don't know won't hurt them' look. "Now go live your life and that's an order."
"Will do sir," Jones said turning off the laptop and ending the conversation. He slowly got to his feet a little shaky for have thought he was going to have to go to war again. He stepped outside and took a deep breath of the fresh air that greeted him. The sun was just starting to come up turning the sky a light purple as Jones walked to the shed behind his house. Hamanee had held true to his word and given the funds to build his house and tools to work the land and now after eight of this planet's seasons the present of his profits had finally paid his friend back. Of course Hamanee didn't want Jones to but he had insisted and reluctantly Hamanee had accepted payment. So now this season's harvest, after expenses and the taxes he had to pay, it was all profit.
"Maybe I can afford the harvester I have needed for eight years," Jones said to himself as he opened the shed. He walked inside and was surround by different hanging tools that he had cut down or other wised modified so he could use them as they hadn't been built with a human in mind. After pulling the ones he needed for that day's work he loaded them into the back of the hovering vehicle that only had two seats in the front and a large flat cargo area in the back, with a rear and front hitch, the Sangheili version of a pickup truck and tractor rolled into one. Taking his place behind the wheel he started it up and drove it slowly out of the shed stopped so he could hook up the grain trailer with the automatic loader. Jumping back into the driver's seat he opened up the throttle and drove towards his furthest field, he liked to start out and work his way towards his house.
15 minutes later he reached the field full of a mature crop of what he found out was called irukan a grain that was the equivalent of wheat and was just an important staple. He also found out that is was originally farmed by Jackals and was later taken back to this planet to be farmed by Sangheili after they had taken a liking to it. The sun had just peeked over the horizon sending its first rays of golden light across the sky as he eased to a stop next to the field and got out. Taking another deep breath of the still cool dawn air he pulled on his gloves and grabbed his first tool. It looked like the long handle of a scythe but without the blade. As he pulled it from the bed he activated it a curved energy blade hummed to life at the end looking just like the blade of a scythe. The blade was seemlier in ideal of the energy sword but not as intense so it would cut through the crops but not start fire to the entire field.
Starting at one end of the field Jones swung the tool in a wide arch slicing through the bottom of the steams causing them to fall in front of him. He started to walk forward swing the scythe in front of him as he did so casing more of the crop to fall to the ground. When he reached the end of the field he turned around and started back the other way widening the area of cut crop. He kept this as the sun rose higher into the sky causing sweat to break out first on his forehead then his whole body only stopping to take a drink from his canteen. He was just over half way through the field and had almost completed a pass when he set the scythe down and leaned heavily on it as he drank the last of his canteen. Jones looked at his watch then and saw it was close enough to midday to warrant a lunch break. Deactivating the scythe he laid it on the ground before walking back towards the truck removing his cap and wiping his face with a piece of cloth. Seating on the back edge of the truck bed he pulled up his lunch box and opened it. He ate more leftovers but this time warmed by the sun. Over the years he had managed to slow his eating down some but he still ate quickly and finished his lunch in under 10 minutes.
Brushing off the front of his pants Jones jumped down and walked over to where he had dropped the scythe and went back to work. It took him a few more hours but he finished cutting the field. He walked back to the truck dragging the scythe in his left hand and wiping his face with a cloth in his right. He threw the scythe in the back of the bed before he walked to the trailer and unfolded the automatic loader. Getting behind the wheel of the truck he started it up and slowly drove up and down the field the loading picking up cut crop and stowing it in the trailer. The sun was just starting to go down as the last of the cut irukan was pulled into the trailer. Jones eased the vehicle to a stop and got out to refold the loader before heading back towards his house and his wife cooking dinner for him.
Instead of pulling the vehicle into the shed and going immediately inside, like he wanted he drove it behind the shed to the milling machine and backed the trailer up to the loader. Shutting the engine off yet again he got out and pulled out the pitch fork like tool from the truck bed and walked to the trailer. He started shoving mounds of irukan into the hopper when he heard a voice behind him.
"Father!" The already deep voice said. Jones turned around wiping the slowly drying sweat from his face to see his son Vilan Kalmare Jones. It seemed Yuka was wrong when he said it was genetically impossible for a human and Sangheili to have offspring. He took mostly after his mother looking just like a normal Sangheili expect for his legs and feet. His legs were built like his father's so he didn't have a hunched appearance, but were just as muscular as a Sangheili's while his feet were shaped like a human's expect he didn't have individual toes. He feet were much large then Jones's leaving him unable to find any kind of foot wear forcing him to walk around bare foot. It so happened that Aima had gotten pregnant the first night they meet. Jones had planned on marring her but when he found out he proposed on the spot after she had woken him up after he had fainted.
Jones had been terrified when he found out not just in becoming a dad but he was afraid his child was going to be some horrible mutant that would be hunted down and killed by other Sangheilis. However he resembled a normal Sangheili expect of the build of his lower body so he was mostly accepted into the culture but was different enough that everyone knew he was a half-breed. Jones raised him loving him more each day as he grew very quickly as Hamanee had explained. As he grew he wanted to hear stories of his father's battles and Jones told him the ones he had fought against the Brutes. Everything was fine until he had started school and he learned he was much different from the other young Sangheilis. He knew his father was a human a different species then his mother but he had thought that was a very common thing. He still managed to make a few friends however and they told each other their fathers' war stories but that was when little Vilan became really confused and troubled after hearing their fathers had killed humans. Vilan became so upset and was sure they were lying that he took them all on in a fight. He was doing good until one of them grabbed him from behind and held him on the ground. When he got home covered in bruises and cuts Jones had demanded what had happen and Vilan told him he had fought a bunch of liars that they had said their fathers had killed humans.
Jones had thought he was old enough then to tell him about the war between humans and the Covenant. Told him how he had meet his 'Uncle' Huka Hamanee(leaving out the part with Yuka and Jenkins) about the Elites withdrawal from the Covenant. The halo rings(what he knew of them which wasn't much) the Flood and the following conflict with the Brutes after the Flood was destroyed. After he was finished Vilan looked up at him and asked a question that completely shocked Jones.
"Do you still love me?" Little Vilan asked with tears forming in his eyes.
"Of course I do," Jones said immediately as he knelt and picked his son up embracing him. "I will always love you no matter what."
Vilan had grown a lot since that night and now as he approached his father as he loaded the hopper for the milling machine he looked just like an adult Sangheili expect for the build of his lower body.
"How was school?" Jones asked scooping more irukan into the hopper.
"Very informative," Vilan said. "A pleasant last day as any I suppose."
"Why don't you go inside and wash up your mother should have dinner almost ready," Jones continuing to scoop. "She made your favorite."
"You do not require help father?" Vilan asked.
"Normally yes but today is your birthday so I think you disserve the night off from chores," Jones explained starting to see the bottom of the trailer.
"Your father is right young one," Huka said walking up the path to the house with Yuka next to him caring a box. "Go inside tonight's celebration is just for you." Vilan nodded and walked inside the house with Yuka right behind him still caring the box as Huka approached Jones watching him scoop the last of the irukan into the hopper.
"Come to help a poor and humble farmer?" Jones asked as he wiped his face.
"More like a resting warrior," Huka said crossing his arms. "I have come to celebrate your son's birthday."
"Oh I see," Jones said smiling as he walked over to the machine and started it up. A conveyor belt took scoops of irukan from the hopper to the mouth of the milling machine where it was crushed and ground leaving only the usable grain before it was stored in 50 pound sacks. Once each sack was filled and sealed Jones picked them up and stored them in a store house nearby. Once all the irukan was ground and stored Jones shut the machine down and put his truck and tools back in the shed. He completed this all while Huka just watched and the sun had almost complete disappeared from the sky.
"Still happy with your life choice Jones?" Huka asked.
"Living the dream buddy," Jones said walking inside the house with Huka in toe. After washing up and a nice dinner Vilan, Huka, Yuka, Aima and Jones were sitting in the living room giving their gifts to Vilan for he wasn't just turning eight but he would be leaving to start his combat training every Sangheili male received.
"Open ours first," His mother said meaning the gift she and Jones had pooled their money to get. Vilan opened the box as quickly as he could and once he had it open he careful removed his prize. A brand new and shinny carbine his weapon to take with him to training.
"It's beautiful," Vilan remarked holding it up to the light. "Thank you mother thank you father."
"Now ours," Yuka said handing him her box. He opened it just as quickly soon pulled out the chest piece for his brand new custom green color armor. It was custom so it would fit his legs and green for he was a trainee.
"Thank you Uncle," Vilan said pulling out each piece and turning it over in his heads before careful putting it back in the box. Vilan stood to take his gifts to his room when Jones spoke.
"When I was drafted," He started causing Vilan to stop and sit back down. "My father gave me two things. The first was a watch this very watch in fact." Jones took his watch off and handed to Vilan who took it and looked at it carefully. "He told it me it was so I could use it to count how many days of training I had left and so no matter how bad things got I would at least know the time."
"Thank you father," Vilan said strapping it to his wrist as he had seen his father do. This simple watch held more history then Vilan could imagine or Jones for that matter. Some sand had been permanently ground into the back of the face when he crawled under the razor wire in basic training as live rounds screamed over his head. A piece of Yuka's skin had gotten caught in the band from the night during the mission that changed his life. The glass that covered the face had been cracked slightly and before he had replaced it a few tiny drops of Mendez's blood, from when he was stabbed and killed, had found their way in and dried on the number 6. During Jones's fight with Hamanee the glass was cracked again and a drop of Hamanee's sweat had gotten in and dried on the 8. Every major life changing event that took place in Jones's life, there was a piece of it in or on his watch that he gave to his son.
"The second thing that he gave me was something that has been handed down in my family for a very, very, very long time," Jones explained pulling out his combat knife still in its sheath."Long before humans left Earth we had enough trouble fighting and killing each other. One of my ancestors was a marine during what is now called World War 2, he was issued this knife. Ever since then there has been a Jones fighting in every war either by choice or because he was forced to, always with him was this knife. This was the knife I used in combat as well, I took it with me on every mission expect for the one when I was captured. I had mixed it up with the knife I was issued, good thing to for they took it from me before I was placed in my cell. This knife is almost 600 years old yet it's still sharp and just as deadly because the bearer of this knife has always taken good care of it. Now I pass it on to you like my father to me and his father to him and so on and so forth."
Jones handed it to Vilan handle first still inside its sheath who took it even more carefully then he had the watch.
"I know it's not a very effective weapon in these times," Jones explained. "I still want you to have it, what you do with it is your choice." Vilan looked at the weapon that his father had given him and couldn't find the words to express his joy and the honor he felt. For his father had felt him worthy enough to wield a weapon with such a rich history.
"Farther," Vilan started feeling a tear starting to form in one eye. "I will carry it with me where ever I go. I will take care of it so I may pass it onto my own son."
"Glad to hear it," Jones said. "Happy birthday son." Vilan removed the knife from its sheath and looked at the weathered but strong steel blade and worn but still functional handle. He looked at it as someone might looked a piece of treasure they just found. Vilan slipped the knife back into the sheath before taking all of his gifts to his room. Yuka and Aima left to talk leaving Huka Hamanee and Allen Jones alone. Jones grabbed a pair of drinks from the kitchen and lead them to the porch and two of the three chairs that were there. They sat in silence of a time sipping their drinks and staring into the night until Jones spoke.
"So tell me my friend what do you know of this 'Storm Covenant'?" Jones asked setting his drink down. Hamanee looked at Jones a puzzled looked on his features. "Captain, no Admiral McKnight, contacted me today telling me the UNSC considers them enough of a threat to call up the reserves including the inactive."
"You don't have to?" Hamanee asked leaving forward his drink forgotten.
"No the wily devil got me out of it with full benefits," Jones explained. "I guess my question is: are the Sangheili part of this new Covenant?" Hamanee let out a heavy sigh before answering.
"Unfortunately yes," Hamanee said bluntly. "Most of them didn't fight alongside humans during the brief war with the Jiralhanae so they have no respect for your species and still consider it weak. Hell most of them didn't fight the parasite so they never knew how big of a threat to our two species they were."
"Do they, this Strom Covenant, have any influence on this planet?" Jones asked just as bluntly. "Do I have reason to fear for my family's safety?" The field marshal looked at Jones for a long moment before sighing again.
"There has been reports and whispers that Covenant sympathizers and supporters are indeed on this planet," Hamanee explained. "I am part of a force that it tasked with stomping these traitors out."
"So everything is under control?" Jones asked raising an eyebrow.
"What I going to tell you is never to be repeated to anyone," Hamanee said locking eyes with his friend. "The only reason I am telling you is because of everything we have been through. There are whispers that some superior officers and their troops in our own combat forces support these traitorous cowards, secretly giving them aid in the form of weapons and warriors."
"My question still stand," Jones said firmly.
"No," Hamanee said. "There is no reason to concern yourself." Jones trusted his friend and sat back in his chair and finished his drink. The rest of the night was spent talking of more pleasant topics until both Yuka and Huka left and Jones took a shower before going to bed with Aima next to him and Vilan in his room. Jones had a little trouble falling asleep not just because of this new Storm Covenant but because his son would be leaving for training to be trained by a Sangheili that might sympathize with them putting him in danger. However sleep did come but long after Aima had drifted to sleep. The next day was Jones's day off and he slept in only to be woken up by the sun shining through the window.
He sat up and stretched his arms accidentally nudging Aima who mumbled something but turned over and continued to sleep. Jones carefully brought his arms back in as not to disturbed her again before getting out of bed and walked to the closet. He opened it and pulled out his best uniform having the feeling that it was going to be a nice easy day. He had just finished lacing up his boots when a pounding on the front door startled him.
"The hell?" Jones muttered as he rushed to answer his door before his family was woken up. "Yeah I coming!" Jones shouted as he walked down the stairs skipping every other one as the pounding continued. Jones opened the door to see Hamanee standing there in full golden armor clutching a plasma rifle his face grim. "Jesus what is it?" Jones demanded as Hamanee pushed past Jones and into his house.
"It seems I was wrong," Hamanee said marching up the stairs. "Those murderous cowards had sympathizers in the high council."
"Who?" Jones demanded following him up the stairs.
"This Storm Covenant," Hamanee said stopping at the top and rubbing the back of his head. "The same ones we discussed last night. Today I know the meaning of irony."
"My god," Jones said feeling ice enter his veins.
"That is not the worst of it," Hamanee said walking so he was just outside of Vilan's room. "I greatly underestimated their influence in our army and the legions that didn't already support them was swayed by the traitorous council members. The other members and troops they couldn't sway they sought to wipe out. I don't know how long they planned this but they started it early this morning during a council meeting. All the loyal ones are dead as are most of the loyal companies of troops killed in their bunks. Fighting rages but we are out numbed as the ones not in active service but support the Covenant have taken up arms against us as well. Those that openly don't support them are killed keeping the rest of the undecided non-warriors out of this battle."
"It's a revolution," Jones muttered disbelieving his own words.
"Indeed," Hamanee said somberly. "One I don't think we can win."
"What do we do," Jones demanded franticly.
"Gather your family and belongings arm yourself we and what loyal troops I have left are leaving this planet," Hamanee ordered handing Jones an Elite's combat harness filled with carbine power cells. Taking the harness and putting it on he opened Vilan's door and rushed in.
"Father what is it," Vilan asked sitting bolt upright in his bed from the noise Jones had made. He didn't answer his son but instead jogged over and snatched up his carbine he had gotten as a gift the night before and shoved a power cell into the receiver.
"Get dressed and hurry," Jones ordered his voice clam but clearly under strain. Vilan's eyes widen as he jumped out of his bed and went for the box that contained his armor. "There is no time of that shit! It doesn't have a shield anyway pack a change of clothes and meet down stairs." Without protest Vilan hurried to change and throw clothes into a bag as Jones left to grab his wife.
"What is going on?" She asked having already gotten dressed.
"Pack some extra clothes we are leaving," Jones said as he rushed to a table and pulled open a drawer and pulled out a rather thick file.
"Is everything alright?" Aima asked fear entering her voice.
"No," Jones said walking over to her. "I don't have time to explain here take this and whatever you do don't lose it." Jones handed her the file before walking down the stairs passing Hamanee who followed him. "Plan?" Jones asked as he descended the stairs as Hamanee walked next to him.
"There is a Phantom only a few miles from here," Hamanee explained as they reached the bottom where Vilan already waited. "Guarded by troops loyal to me. We are going to use it to get off this planet, after that I don't know."
"We head for UNSC controlled space," Jones said more as an order then a suggestion. "I am still a citizen and I'll make sure you and your troops get asylum as refugees."
"Alright," Hamanee agreed as Aima came down the stairs clutching a bag and the file Jones had given her. "Let's go." Hamanee opened the door and lead them to a vehicle, that already had a driver, in-between two Specters fully crewed. Jones and his family jumped into the unarmed transport vehicle with Hamanee and the drive and all three vehicle, staying in formation drove away from his home. They hadn't gotten very far when the gunner of the lead Specter radioed Hamanee.
"Excellently we have a rebel barricade up ahead," He said grimly. "It's a road block."
"What?" Hamanee demanded as he leaned over the edge of his vehicle so he could see. "They were not there when we arrived. How did they know we were here?"
"They didn't," Jones said just as grimly. "They were waiting for me. I bet there is a squad heading to my house right now they are there to make sure I don't escape."
"Why?" Hamanee asked.
"Think about it," Jones said. "I am the only human on this planet prefect to make an example of in a public execution." This explanation got horrified looks from both Vilan and Aima.
"I fear you are right," Hamanee said keying his radio. "Smash through, don't stop."
"As you wish excellently," The gunner said just before he opened up sending blue fire towards the blockade. The two Elites in the side jump seats opened up as well one with a carbine the other a needler. The other Specter pulled out from behind the transport and pulled up so it was next to the lead Specter its occupants also firing towards the rebels. The driver of the transport eased off the throttle giving some room to the two combat vehicles as they lead the charge. Return fire from the rebels flew harmless pass the small convoy the only time rounds even hit the vehicles was when the two Specters smashed through the sloppily made obstacle leaving the rebels to fire point blank. Then convoy was safely on the other side out of the rebel's range of fire and the second Specter fell back behind the transport. Jones looked out the back window and could see smoke rising from the detraction of his house and knew they were burning it to the ground probably along with his crops he worked so hard to grow.
"Cocksuckers," Jones muttered under his breath. "Hamanee where is your wife and son?"
"I had to leave my home when this started," Hamanee explained. "I didn't know it was going to get like this so I sent a file to pick them up and take them to the Phantom. They should be there already."
"Excellently," The rear Specter gunner radioed this time. "The rebels pursue us." He turned and fired behind them at two Ghosts and three un-armed vehicles loaded with Elites armed with different weapons. The lead Specter fell back so his gunner could fire as well but the Elites in the jump seats just couldn't get an angle. The pursuing forces didn't have that problem and soon a hail storm of rounds flew at the two out gunned Specters.
"They're going to overtake us," Jones said looking out the back. Hamanee grunted in agreement.
"Increase speed," He said talking to the driver. The vehicle jerked forward pulling away from the Specter who in turn increased their speed as well. They started to pull away from the overloaded transports but the Ghosts' pilots hit their boosts and quickly caught up to the convoy hosing the Specters with plasma fire. One of the Elites in the left jump seat in the Specters that used to be in the front took a few detract hits enough to drop his shields, the next pair of shots blew his head off and a hole through his chest. He slumped forward in his seat the only thing keeping him in it was his harness. The gunner of the other took enough hits to drop his shields as well, he ducked down to give them a moment to recharge causing a slack in outgoing fire. Meanwhile both Specters' armor was slowly being deflected and a few of the blue bolts had hit the lightly armored transport they tried to protect.
"We can't out run them," Jones said his voice toneless as he gripped his carbine tighter. Then the Specter who had already lost a man took a hit in the weakest bit of armor it had left the bolt punching its way into the engine causing it to explode knocking the gunner off the back. Without it the vehicle dropped to ground and skidded in the dirt turning so the side with the dead Elite in the jump seat was facing the oncoming Ghosts. The gunner who was on his hands and knees trying to get to his feet looked up just in time to watch the Ghost smash into his face with a wet smack, knocking his forward five feet where he landed in a twisted heap of bones and blood. The same Ghost barreled for the down Specter plasma splashing across its husk as the driver and passenger took cover on the other side. The other Ghost changed direction and went to aid his comrade when the other Specter, momentary forgotten by the two rebels, came up behind them and poured fire onto their unprotected backs.
Both pilots turned to face their attacker and as their shields were both depleted they hit their boosts at the same time before turning around. When they did turn around they saw that the disabled Specter was much closer than before and both swerved in an attempt to miss it. One did missing it by a narrow margin the other wasn't so lucky slamming into it bring his Ghost to a sudden stop. The sudden change in momentum forced the driver over the front of his vehicle and the derelict Specter. He landed on his head his neck unable to support all of his body weight snapped as he summer saluted onto his back where he lay still. The other Ghost was chased by the Specter as the gunner poured fire into his back until his torso fell from his waist and the Ghost slowed and stopped. The other Specter pulled up next to the disabled one and came to a stop the two passengers getting out to help their injured comrades.
Hamanee had the driver stop their vehicle and was about to have him go back to help when the three transports over burdened with rebels reached the Specters and stopped a good distance away so they could dismount. The gunner of the working Specter immediately opened up while the other Elites took cover behind the two Specters as a hail storm of round flew at them.
"Excellently you need to leave this area," One of them radioed to Hamanee. "We will hold these traitors as long as we can."
"May we meet again in paradise brother," Hamanee radioed back just before the driver gunned the throttle pushing the engine to full leaving the rest of his troops behind. The last thing Jones could see was one of the rebels throw a plasma grenade driving Hamanee's troops from their cover before it exploded. The rest of the ride was in somber silence until a Phantom on a hill to came into view soon after. The driver brought the vehicle to a stop and everyone jumped out and ran towards the waiting craft. When they had reached it Hamanee keyed his radio.
"We are here get ready for takeoff," Hamanee ordered the five coming to a stop just in front of one of the side hatches. The hatches opened to reveal three black clad Elites laying in a pool of blood. Behind them stood an Elite who had his arm warped around Yuka's throat and his plasma pistol pressed to the side of her head. On either side of him stood two more Elites with their weapons already trained on the group.
"If you value your lives lower your weapons," The Elite holding Yuka hostage ordered.
"Zamanee you traitorous bastard!" Hamanee shouted at him raising his plasma rifle.
"That," Zamanee said as he started to over charge his plasma pistol as Yuka whimpered. "I would not advise." Hamanee spat on the ground in disgust before discarding his rifle to the ground. Jones tossed his carbine next to it the drive upholstered his own pistol and let it drop to his feet as well.
"How did you even know we would be here?" Hamanee demanded as the four other Elites rushed over and rounded up their weapons. They then encircled the group to keep them covered at every angle.
"I informed them," Romle said stepping out of the cockpit holding a needler.
"Why son?" Hamanee asked shocked that his own son had betrayed them.
"Because father you took the side of a filthy human and his disgusting half breed offspring," Romle said walking down the ramp. "Sucre them." One of the four Elites placed a device that made rings of light appear around their wrist binding their hands in front of them on each of their wrists. "It doesn't have to be like this father."
"Like what?" Hamanee growled.
"We just want the human, his whore wife and freak of an offspring," Romle explained. "You can join our side still father and help us achieve our rightful place in the galaxy."
"What happens to Jones?" Hamanee demanded jerking forward but a rebel held him in place.
"We will kill him in front of the whole city so they may know how truly weak and pathetic our enemy is," Romle explained walking up to Jones and grabbed what little hair he had pulled his head back and ran a claw across his throat.
"I'll go with you just as long as you don't hurt my family and Hamanee," Jones grunted in pain.
"I had not intention to hurt my own father and mother," Romle said in disgust as he let go of Jones's hair. " However your abomination will be purified, burned at the steak while your sweet wife we could find...other uses for her."
"You bastard!" Jones shouted lunging at Romle who shoved him to the ground.
"You've gone soft," Romle remarked as he got up. "The mighty Specter going soft."
"Fine I agree to help you now let your mother go," Hamanee said with shame in his eyes. Jones looked at him shocked them hung his head in the shame he felt for both of them.
"Wise choice father," Romle remarked as he motioned to Zamanee who let go of Yuka. Romle removed his father's bounds and he ran to embrace the sobbing Yuka.
"Greetings again human," Zamanee said walking up to Jones and punched him in the gut causing him to double over. "I was hoping we would meet again.
"Take him away," Romle ordered as two rebels each grabbed one of Jones arms as Zamanee walked in front and a third rebel behind Jones.
"Farther to prove your new loyalty go with them," Romle ordered. "I want you to pull the trigger yourself." Hamanee stared at his son before nodded and fell in behind the rebel behind Jones. As the group walked away that left Aima, Vilan, Yuka and the drive under the guard of Romle and one other rebel.
"Jones I hope you can forgive me," Hamanee said as they walked. Jones remained silent as he tried to hold himself up his bound hands holding his stomach. "I'm sorry Jones." Hamanee said just before he grabbed the rebel behind Jones from behind and warped his arm around his throat. He then jerked his pistol from his holster and fired an over charged bolt into the rebel holding Jones's left arm depleting his shields. He then fired quickly three more times two rounds tacking the Elite in the back the third blew a hole in the back of his head. Hamanee switched his aim to fire at the other rebel holding Jones when the rebel he was holding drove his elbow into his side forcing him to drop the pistol and loosen his grip on his throat. The rebel then fell backwards causing Hamanee to let go of him completely and was in the process of turning around to finish the field marshal off when Hamanee wrapped his legs around his waist and forced him to his back. Hamanee then climbed on top of the rebel and started to throw punches at his face as he meekly tried to block Hamanee's powerful blows.
The other rebel had let go of Jones and was turning bring his carbine up to fire on Hamanee when Jones threw his shoulder into him. The rebel was knocked off balance and stumbled back dropping his carbine. Jones felt something one the Elite's belt brush against his still bound hands and he snatched it up and activated it. He then used both hands to plunge the energy sword through the rebel's stomach the blade coming out the Elite's back. Boiling blood flowed out of his mouth as he tried to scream. Zamanee had drawn his pistol again and was firing at Jones then. Jones turned to face him still holding the sword and the Elite skewered on the end and charged him. Zamanee's rounds hit the already dead Elite as Jones gained momentum as he drove the part of the sword witch stuck out of the rebel into Zamanee as well. The traitor let out a cry of pain as Jones let go of the sword's handle letting the two bodies connected by the sword fall to the ground.
Jones turned in time to see the rebel that had stayed behind bring his weapon up and level it at him. Before he could fire the driver was behind him and threw his bound hands over his head and pulled back using the device to choke him. Romle fumbled with his pistol on his belt as his plans were destroyed before his eyes. Vilan tackled him however and used the device on his wrists to bash in Romle's face. Hamanee got off of the dead rebel and walked over to Jones and removed his bonds. Picking up the rebel's carbine he walked up to Vilan and gently pulled him off of Romle who looked up at his father through swelling and bleeding eyes.
"Father," Romle begged raising a limp hand.
"You are no son of mine," Hamanee said shouldering the carbine and fired a round through his head. Jones ran up and retrieved his own carbine and stood next to Hamanee who was busy removing everyone's bonds. "Can you fly that craft?" Hamanee asked the driver.
"I can," The driver said rubbing his wrists.
"Get it started up everyone on board," Hamanee ordered as Vilan, Aima and Yuka boarded the craft after the driver.
"We have a problem!" Jones shouted from edge of the hill top as he looked at something. Hamanee ran over to his friend and saw what he meant. The rebels that had been chasing them, now fewer in number, were running at the bottom of the hill and would soon start up it.
"Does the craft have a weapon system," Hamanee radioed to pilot as he prepared it for takeoff.
"It does not," The driver reported.
"How long tell you can get air born?" Was Hamanee's next question.
"A few minutes," The driver said. The two ran back towards the Phantom where both their wives and Jones's son waited.
"Let go," Vilan said.
"We have to hold the rebels off," Jones said. "Otherwise none of us are going to make it."
"I will help you father," Vilan said starting down the ramp.
"No you stay there," Jones ordered. "Once it is ready you'll take off."
"How will you leave then father?" His son asked confused.
"Do not worry young one I have stashed Banshees not far from here in case something like this happened," Hamanee explained.
"No matter what happens stay on the ship," Jones ordered as the pilot started to close the hatches. "I love you son." Jones managed to get out just before they sealed. The two friends turned around and started walking towards the edge of the hill top.
"You realize there are no Banshees?" Hamanee asked as he reloaded his carbine.
"I wouldn't know how to fly one if there were," Jones said as they reached the edge as could see the rebels as they rushed the hill.
"It is and honor to die by your side my friend," Hamanee said as he shouldered his carbine.
"I just wish we could have meet under different circumstances," Jones remarked as he shouldered his own carbine. The two opened fire at the same time catching the rebels by surprise as they hadn't expected resistance as two were killed before they stopped to return fire. When they did Hamanee took several different plasma bolts to the chest until his shields were depleted. He kept firing however until he took several more to the chest and stomach along with needles but before they could explode he took a carbine round between the eyes. As his limp body fell to the ground Jones's carbine had ran out of ammo and not having the time to reload he threw a plasma grenade instead the blast killed three more rebels before a carbine round took him through the throat. Jones fell back clutching at his throat as he gargled for air. Seeing no more incoming fire the rebels started forward again and as the first one crested the hill the Phantom was already rising into the air. The Elite growled as he fired uselessly at it when a gagging sound caught his attention. At his feet lay the mighty Specter dying before his eyes. Smiling the Elite knelt down and took out his energy sword. A few seconds later he held Jones head up high for all to see.
This was the last image young Vilan saw of his beloved father as the Phantom flew away. Yuka and Aima held each other as they sobbed heavy at the loss of their husbands. As the Phantom reached the blackness of space Vilan pulled out the file Jones had given to his mother and opened it, inside were a number of documents. Allen Jones had been a careful man having taken the time to fill out all the necessary paper work for his son and wife to become full citizens of the UNSC. There was a certified marriage certificate that made Aima a citizen right behind it was his birth certificate making him a citizen. Next were their ID complete with their photos and after that was all the paper work stating that Aima and him were the sole beneficiaries of his life insurance and all the benefits entitled to Jones from the UNSCMC along with all of the money he had saved up. Even in death his father had made sure they were taken care of. Vilan let the file fall to the deck as tears ran down his face and landed next to the file. He looked at his father's watch that was still strapped to his wrist and pulled the combat knife in its sheath from his belt. These were the only two things he had left to remember his father. Anger welled up inside of the young Sangheili and he punched the empty jump seat next to him. Then again and again in till he unleashed a fury of punches at it. When he stopped the anger was gone now replaced with despair as tears streamed faster down his face.