Co-Authors Note: Allright everone, here is part two of The Final Push! :D The third part should be coming out within the next week or so. Busy with college stuff!! Its amazing…you don't really know how much harder it is to get everything set to *go* to college…getting accepted is the easy part. XD

~Matt aka Ignorant One

Ch. 38 The Final Push (Part II)

1730 Units (Covenant Military Calendar) The Ripper data core, Covenant designated "Vengeance Plateau", Echo Halo, Linksis Dawn System

After forcing their way through the long, Flood filled hallway, Zuterio and Yanni finally managed to catch a break once they sealed off the main bulkhead at the end of the corridor; the Flood on the other side were being forced to look for an alternate route, and the only other way that the parasites could get to them was through the vents. Which were quickly sealed by the pair of Sangheli.

After catching their breath, Yanni ordered a quick check of their ammunition stores, which provided both Elites grave news. The only weapons they had were their plasma rifles, three grenades between the two of them, and Yanni's Plasma sword; which was currently at less than half a charge. "This situation does not bode well for us Ship Master." Zuterio said, stating the obvious. "What do you suggest we do?"

Yanni growled, "I'm working on that." He muttered, placing a large finger to the side of his gold plated helmet; activating his ear piece. "Wraith Team. What is your status?"

For a few brief seconds, the Ship Master felt unease knowing that the first team was filled with his most experienced fighters, and if they fell, only two things could have happened: The Demon, or that the Flood decided to change tactics. Or, he thought, mulling the idea around in his head, The materials in this ship are interfering with out communications…but that's highly unlikely. He shook his head slightly at the thought and tried again. "Wraith Team. Indicate you status. Are you transmitting? Respond immediately, that is a direct order."

Yanni's hand clench into a fist and his jaw tightened as he looked at the Spec Ops elite that looked at the Ship Master with a slightly dismayed expression. "Do you think they're-?"

The younger Elite was cut off when a crackle filled their ears. "-Yes Ship Master, this is Wraith Team… reporting only minor casualties. We're good on munitions and morale, but we have lost Zing-Zap and Reskasharr' to the Flood. Also, Tobin has been injured, and his bond brother, Tobius is acting rather unruly; failing to take direct orders and engaging targets that hold no value. We are returning to the hanger for extraction. Do you require some assistance Ship Master? Or is whatever situation you are in completely under control?" The last line had a joking air to it.

The Ship Master laughed. "Ah! Yuu'vsha! When will you learn that there is never a situation I can't handle?"

"Yes…I thought as much. Then we will meet in the hanger?"

"But of course, Brother. And please, take out as many as you can along the way…it will make my already simple job a walk in the park."

There was only laughter on the other end until the connection was cut. Yanni keyed his mic again. "Banshee Team . What is your status?"

Zuterio decided to run a systems check upon his Plasma Rifle while the Ship Master started his rounds. "This is Banshee Team. We have no casualties to report, and we haven't had a reason to fire a single round Ship Master. The hanger is secure and we have a Phantom on stand-by to receive you and the 'package'."

Yanni smiled. "Excellent. If all goes well, we should reach Ghost Team's waypoint within four cycles in which we will link up with Wraith Team before heading to the extraction point."

"You information has been received and we will await your arrival. Also sir, Ghost team has reported an unusually coordinated assault by the Flood, and they have taken heavy casualties. I do not have the full report, so it would be best that you check in on them sir. Over and out."

That feeling of a job well done for Yanni disappeared after hearing this news, and instead a lump of ice froze his gut. "Ghost Team. Report."

It took a few moments of static before someone replied. "-this is Ghost Team…Ship Master. We have taken heavy-*static* casualties…*static*"

Despite the static, Yanni understood them just perfectly. "I need a damage assessment, Major. And I need to know how such a defensible position was almost overrun by the parasites."

"*static*----Damage report!"

Yanni could hear the Major Elite recounting each report as the Special Operations squad sounded off their group losses, each Sangheli giving accurate report. "Ragh! This access was sealed before, who locked this down!?"

"-It was Rezkash'r, *static*, unfortunately he has fallen prey to the Flood. I saw him seal it…*static* all of us were too busy fighting…it couldn't have been anyone here. There are very few things that can breach our *static* systems, and one of them is-"

"The Demon…" That got Yanni's and Zuterio's attention.

"The Demon?" Zuterio asked, a little too much excitement laced the younger Sangheli's voice for the Ship Master's liking, and he swept his arm in a dismissive gesture.

"Listen up Major. I want you to secure the area first and then back to the hanger with Banshee Team and Wraith Team; we can make it in time."

The Ship Master hissed between his closed mandibles, readying his weapons and swinging his view all around himself; beady eyes checking for anything out of place since it wouldn't have been impossible for the Demon to be onboard The Ripper. "Zuterio, pull up some schematics. We need to get to the lift, and we won't get there without making a detour."

"By the Prophets! Where did that come from!?" Yanni heard screech through his earpiece before more started to come through, the sounds of plasma fire sneaking through despite the filters in his helmet.

"It's the Demon!*Static*" The constant static in his helmet made him cut the communications line.

"Curses…" He growled, punching the metal wall.

"By the Prophets…" Zuterio spoke, his voice filled with awe, "Is the Demon really here?"

Yanni wanted to be angry with his companion, but the way the Demon was portrayed to the younger elites who were going into training made him the one thing that all of the younglings strived to defeat. To them, killing the Demon would secure them a place in all of history, their names revered and their families' destined to be spoken of for generations to come. That was if they could defeat the Demon.

"Yes. And we will not complete the mission if he makes it to the hanger before we do. Is that schematic up?"

Zuterio held the glowing map of the ship up for the Ship Master to examine; the Sangheli warrior tracing their position all of the way to the hanger. The gold armored elite cursed, "Our shortest and safest route has been cut off by the parasite, and out back-up route has been cut off by the Demon… if all else fails, follow Plan C."

"Plan C? What is Plan C? I wasn't briefed about this when we started the mission." Zuterio protested, feeling a little angry about being left out of any informational loop.

"Make your own path." Yanni replied, following the maze of corridors before finding the one they were currently trapped in. "You see here is where we are," The Sangheli's large forefinger pointed to a moderate sized hallway with two other hallways running parallel to it. "The corridor we are in follows the access tunnels, but our scanners picked up substantial parasite movement beyond that bulkhead, and frankly, brother, we aren't equipped to fight that threat."

He then pointed to one of the corridors that were next to theirs, and there was an access hatch on their side of the bulkhead. "The Demon from the last reports has a free reign of everything down that route towards Ghost Team, which we can safely assume was wiped out. The last thing we need to do as specialists is to get ourselves killed before we have completed our mission."

Yanni chortled to himself a little bit. "So I suggest that we make our way to this corridor right here," He pointed to the hallway that didn't have an access hatch to their tunnel. "And head down to the lift at the end of that path. That should get us onto the third level and in a position to meet up with Banshee and Wraith Teams so we can evac."

"How are we supposed to get into that corridor? There isn't a passage to it that can be accessed." Zuterio responded, sliding his finger down the length of the corridor and pointing to the doors that they could use, but if they did, they'd be overwhelmed by the Flood presence there.

"We make a hole." He chuckled, pulling out his near empty gold plated Plasma rifle before he started to remove its paneling and started to rip out and cross wires. "We punch a hole right through this wall," The Ship Master continued, nodding his head at the cold metal wall to his left, "This metal, while durable, is flimsy, and when I short circuit this plasma rifle…it should give us the equivalent yield of at least twenty plasma grenades… enough to burst a hole and give us enough time to make it to the elevator."

"I will be honest and say that I have a sense of foreboding about this…you did say that you tended to make things worse rather than better." Zuterio muttered, standing up and slowly backing away from the hotwiring Ship Master.

"Relax, I've done this before with an empty charge before. We'll be fine, brother." The gold clad elite chortled, continuing to cross wires. "And yellow goes to red while purple goes to grey…and orange connects to the ion disruptor…wait…or does orange connect to the focusing prism…?"

"I wouldn't know Ship Master…re-wiring a plasma rifle to act as a blast charge was not something that was taught in the Special Operations curriculum back at the Holy City, High Charity." He said, now standing fifteen feet from his commanding officer. "And what, may I ask, is the charge on that rifle, sir?"

"Seventy-nine percent…so it shouldn't be too much stronger now should it? And-ha! Success, brother!" He chuckled as he stood up and walked towards Zuterio. "Toss me a plasma grenade. I require at least one to set it off."

Zuterio complied and tossed the Ship Master a grenade, which Yanni easily caught. The larger elite walked back to the hot-wired plasma rifle and set the grenade next to it; tapped on the activation stud and altering its timer; setting the explosive to ten seconds. "Ten units should be enough time to put some distance between us and our ticket out of here shouldn't it?"

Zuterio shrugged and started to walk away from Yanni. The gold armored elite activated the timer and took off; sprinting past the grey armored elite at an amazing speed. '10'

'9'

'8' It took Zuterio two seconds to realize that Yanni had activated the timer, and he too took off; sprinting after the Ship Master.

'7'

'6'

'5' Both elites were about five meters away at this point, but neither stopped running.

'4'

'3'

'2' Zuterio and Yanni both stopped once they had about ten meters between themselves and the explosives.

'1'

BOOMMMMMM!!!!!

The explosion was massive, the light so bright that both Sangheli had to turn away lest they be blinded. The sound was deafening, and even their helmet dampeners weren't able to reduce the sound. And the shockwave…

It took them off of their feet.

And slammed the Sangheli into a bulkhead two meters behind them.

Zuterio had no idea how much time had passed since he had been knocked unconscious, but he knew it couldn't have been long because he could still see the metal corridor glowing red-hot. A coughing to his right caught his attention, and he managed to turn his head slightly to see Yanni kicking a panel off of a pile of debris. "Zuterio, report your status."

The grey armored elite wriggled his head. No broken neck. Next he wriggled his shoulders and arms. Nothing was broken there. Next were his hips, which thankfully signaled no damage there. His final check was his legs. He couldn't move them.

If his legs were broken, then he didn't feel any pain; the elite chocking up 'nerve separation' as the most likely cause. "Ship Master! I cannot move my legs!"

The gold armored elite laughed as he walked over to Zuterio. "Your legs are broken as much as they are pinned, soldier."

Yanni hefted the heaviest objects that held the elite pinned to the floor, and after a moment of wriggling, Zuterio was free to move. With the spec ops elite up on his feet, the pair headed down the warped corridor, their footing unsteady because the hallway listed nearly thirty degrees. It wasn't much further until they saw just how devastating the explosion had been.

Zuterio's mandibles opened wide as he saw the devastation. His hand immediately shot out and slapped the Ship Master's shoulder plate. "You said it would yield twenty plasma grenades! Not plasma mortars!" The spec ops elite bellowed.

The damage was extensive to say the least.

The improvised explosive turned into a giant ball of plasma at least five meters in all directions; three decks were exposed above and below their own. The metal was still cooling, and both elites treaded carefully to avoid any compromise in the corridor's structural integrity. "Well it is I said…I only did this with a plasma rifle with zero charge…I had never attempted it with seventy-nine percent charge before."

The spec ops elite looked at the gap in the floor, and it was nearly fifteen feet across to the other side and to their only way to the hanger: The elevator. Zuterio looked at Yanni. "Can we make it?"

"We are going to have to…look! We need to make it to the elevators if we are to survive!" The gold elite replied, pointing down to the lower decks; there were numerous Flood combatants slowly but surely climbing the newly made holes in the ship. Yanni looked at his motion tracker, and the entire screen was red; hundreds of contacts in all directions.

"By the Prophets!" The spec ops elite muttered before looking for something to grab a hold of as he shimmied himself closer to the edge. With his improved view, he saw that it was nearly a fifteen foot drop down below the decks. The fall they could easily survive. The dozen of flood at the bottom they could not. "It seems like making it to the lift down the corridor across this gap is our only ticket out of here."

"Of course." Zuterio heard his Ship Master say, but it was very faint, and the grey armored Sangheli turned around to see what was happening.

Yanni was ten feet back, and he took off into a sprint, flashing past Zuterio as he leapt nearly five meters. The younger Sangheli was surprised by this display of agility and speed as the gold armored elite soared through the air…and came up short.

The Ship Master let out a pained roar as his chest collided with the edge of the hole, and he breathlessly slapped at the metal flooring until he hoisted himself up; sprawling out on the floor. He looked up and saw that the lift was less than a dozen feet away. Once he regained his breath he stood up and pulled out his second Plasma rifle and started shooting at any Flood that tried to reach his and Zuterio's level. "Hurry! Jump Zuterio! I will not be able to hold them off with such a low charge!"

Zuterio looked down again at the gap, and those five meters seemed like a very long way to jump, not to mention the price of if he failed to make it. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. He was going to make it. "If you aren't going to jump, then throw me the data! We cannot fail the mission!" Yanni roared as he continued to fire at the approaching Flood.

Without wasting another moment, Zuterio turned around and sprinted ten paces before turning one-eighty degrees and sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction. When he got to the edge he jumped, and he realized that he jumped too early; knowing in a split second that he would just miss the lip of the other deck.

Yanni's eyes went wide as he saw his brother jump as a little before he should have. "Brother!" The Ship Master exclaimed as he tossed his plasma rifle to the side, leaping forward and sliding to the edge of the hole; just barely managing to clasp his hand around the other Zuterio's wrist. The gold armored elite hissed in pain when he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket, but he suffered through it long enough to bring his other arm down to get a more solid grip.

"Hurry Ship Master! The Parasite is leaping at my heels!" Zuterio yelled, kicking his legs out to burst any infection form that tried to attach itself to his body. This worked for a few seconds as Yanni slowly pulled the Spec Ops Elite up, and once he was almost up a Combat form leapt up and wrapped its tentacle around Zuterio's leg. Then they were back to square one; the grey armored Sangheli dangling by one arm and the gold armored Ship Master on the floor doing his damndest to not lose his mission.

"Blasted parasite!" Zutiero roared, looking down and lashing out with his hoof. The spongy mass of putrid flesh just caved with the force of the blow, but it refused to yield and let go, so the Sangheli gave it a few more kicks. With each kick Yanni's grip lessened, forcing the more experienced elite to drop his plasma rifle and grab ahold with both hands.

"For the adoration of the Prophets! Why won't you release me parasite!?" The grey armored Sangheli gave the beast one last hit at the junction of its tentacle and shoulder; the rotting flesh giving away and the combat form fell onto its brothers.

"Finally!" Yanni grunted as he slowly pulled the spec ops elite up, and as soon as Zuterio was on the deck, he bolted up and grabbed his commanding officer and helped him to his feet. They both dashed towards the lift and slipped inside, the Ship Master slamming his fist on the wall. "Zuterio, which level? I cannot read this filth those infidels call script!"

Zuterio looked at the panel for a moment before pressing a switch labeled 'hanger', and the lift doors started to slowly close; the Flood that had made it upon their deck had started to rush the elevator. "If these doors could take any more time to close!" The grey armored elite barked as he reached for his plasma rifle and started firing into the approaching Flood.

As soon as the doors shut and the lift started to slowly descend, Zuterio relaxed slightly, turning his head to look at Yanni, and what he saw made his mandibles flare open. The Ship Master of The Truth Ascended was opening a small weapons locker which contained human weapons. "Ship Master! Why do you toy with the heretic's weapons!?"

"Because," The gold armored elite began, picking up an M90A shotgun as well as a box of shells, "I don't have any more weaponry." He grabbed an SMG and three clips, attaching them to the hardpoints on his armor. "And because even though the humans don't believe in the Great Journey, they make effective parasite killing weaponry."

"That may be," Zuterio replied, "But if any one learned of this you might have your reputation tarnished…" He glanced at the matte' black shot-gun, "Besides, do you even know how to work their weapons?"

Yanni snorted and opened a box of shot shells and loaded twelve into the tubular magazine before sliding the action open and loading a round into the chamber. "Of course… I know how they work and just how devastating they can be."

Without much further talking Yanni slid a fresh clip of 5mm bullets into the SMG and placed it on his thigh. "There is another of these…sub machine guns…" He said, the words a little foreign in his mouth. "And one of their carbines," he said, nodding to the SMG and the MA5C attached to the small locker.

Zuterio looked reluctant to touch the human weapons, but when he evaluated his armament, he realized that he only had his half-charged Plasma Rifle and one plasma grenade. The Sangheli gave an angry growl as he picked up the assault rifle and tried to hold it in his arms, noting that it was a little small in his large hands. "Now the question is…" Yanni grinned, "Do you know how to use these human weapons?"

And the lift continued its agonizingly slow descent to the flight deck.

1745 hours, November 2, 2552 (Coalition Military Calendar), Coalition Air Space, Thirty thousand kilometers from Echo Halo, The Great Fox Bridge.

"Captain McCloud, Falco Lombardi has just arrived and is on his way to the bridge." The grainy metal voice of R.O.B. echoed throughout the ship.

Fox nodded, "Thanks R.O.B."

Krystal stared out the view screen of the Great Fox's main bridge, running her paw over Fox's ears absent mindedly as she was entranced by Echo Halo's majestic beauty; eyes dancing over the masses of green and expanses of blue that coated the inside of the silvery ring. "It's so strange…" The blue vixen murmured.

"What's so strange?" Fox asked, doing his best to tilt his head up so he could get a look at the vixen without loosening his bandages.

"It's so strange…that something so beautiful…something so pristine and pure could be such an insidious weapon." She murmured again, turning so she could give the red vulpine a quick kiss on his cheek.

"You what's even weirder is the fact that a bunch of freak-shows worship that thing." A heavy Brooklyn accent forced its way through the air, signaling that Falco had arrived onto the bridge. "But even weirder still is finding out that Fox has decided to man-up and snag the girl."

Fox frowned as he felt his skin flush with embarrassment, and Krystal giggled. "That's not funny, Falco. We all know that if succeed with this final operation, then-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it Fox." Falco interrupted, standing up next the blue fox and looking out the window at Halo. "If Halo doesn't go boom, then you and your new girlfriend won't live long enough to experience the joys of dating. I got it. Been there, done that, even got the t-shirt. It just didn't work out for me, but it just might for you two."

Fox once again frowned. That wasn't what he was going to say, but the blue avian's statement did its job.

"Let's just hope that the 'jolly green giant' lives up to his hype. I've got a lot of money riding on this." Falco stated flatly, crossing his wings over his chest. "Got a couple of suckers in the Lylatian Marine Corp who think that we won't make it out of this alive. I've got three months worth of pay from each of 'em coming my way if that wonderful Spartan of the human's succeeds."

"Only you, Falco."

1755 hours, November 2, 2554 (Coalition Military Calendar), Coalition Designated Plateau "Echo-Papa 07", The Ripper, Echo Halo, Linksis Dawn System

"Glad that's over." Cortana sighed as the Chief breathed, finally through the sea of bodies that he was forced to slog through.

"You're one to talk." The Spartan ground out as he rounded the corner and shook his legs, any loose flesh that had accumulated on his armor fell to the floor. The super soldier deactivated his EVA oxygen supply in favor of using his air filters once more; allowing the compressors to refill his spent supply. John continued to follow the symbols on the wall until he came to a large set of double doors with the image of a black cog. "We're here."

"Of course we're here. We're here to blow this power core and get the hell out." Cortana pipped, her voice sounding a little on edge. "Listen, Chief. I have multiple contacts inside the engineering room…they're very faint, but I sense movement…and I think it's the Flood."

"Well it would be too easy if it weren't Flood…" John growled as he gritted his teeth, reaching for the panel to open up the door.

"Chief." Cortana spoke as she brought up a map on his HUD, "The area is too cramped for you to use your mini-gun effectively. I suggest that we use our MA5B and both of our M6CD's; they're much better suited for close quarters combat. Anyways, before we go in…"

The Ship AI's voice flowed through his mind as more detailed schematics were brought up on his HUD; eight red markers glowing in the cramped looking area. "The Lylatians have succeeded where we could not in the fact that their Engineering Bay and access to their engine systems have been compacted into a small area…but for us, that's the entire problem. There is almost absolutely no room in order for use to maneuver, and there are very few pathways for us to head through…if we get sandwiched Chief…we're done for."

"Understood," John replied as he set the mini-gun on the ground and shrugged out of the ammunition pack. "What are we going to do about my weapon?"

"Don't you worry Chief. Once we go inside, I can lock the doors behind us. That way we can bring the M334 in with us…and have it as a back-up weapon in case things get nasty." Cortana said as she ran through the quick video briefing on more time. "That's if we can get to it…"

"Allright. I'm ready," The Spartan said as he made sure his grenade bandoleer was firmly slipped around his waist and double checked to make sure that his ammunition was ready to use. He raised the MA5B up to his shoulder and turned on his helmet flood light. "Open it."

"Opening now…" The locks securing the door shut quickly were quickly released and the heavy metallic slabs moved to the side; revealing a dark narrow corridor with multiple monitors on the walls and work stations dotting its length. The blue glow the monitors gave off did little to alleviate the darkness that permeated the areas that Chief's floodlight could not.

John tightened his grip on the assault rifle and stepped into the corridor and began to sweep every wall as far as his flood light would reach before he quickly turned around and picked up the mini-gun and dragged it into the engineering bay access; Cortana shutting the doors and locking them as soon as the Master Chief had cleared the sensors. "Allright, John, move forward carefully and sweep the area. Then once we're clear, you start blowing the covers and destroying the core stabilizers."

"Affirmative." John said as he started to walk down the first corridor and swept each and every small corridor that joined the first access to the second and third access ways.

First access way: "Clear."

Second access way: "Clear."

Third access way: "Clear."

"All clear, Cortana." John stated as he started to move back through and open each small panel safeguarding the engine core's safety locks. The Spartan opened up the first hatch and tossed a grenade in before slamming it shut and back-peddling quickly. A muffled explosion resounded throughout the cramped engineering bay, and the hatch was blown off in a concussive burst of flame and shrapnel; John's shields sparking as residual debris pinged off of his armor. "One down, seven to go."

Spartan-117 moved to the second and third hatches and tossed a grenade into each before moving down the hallways; filling hatches four, five, and six with their own fragmentive explosive. Five explosions following quickly one after the other echoed, and then as John was tossing in the final two grenades, red contacts filled his motion sensor, and dozens of infection forms burst through the vents on the floor and ceiling.

"Flood!" Cortana cried, and John tossed the two grenades in his hands into the crowd of infection forms instead of placing them in the hatch covers before shoving two more grenades into the hatches.

"Cortana, open the doors, we're getting out of here!" The Spartan yelled as he sprinted towards the exit and his mini-gun; four explosions roaring behind him as the explosives detonated. Without pausing his gait, John leaned down and scooped up the mini-gun and waited at the door to open. They didn't open. The super soldier's eyes widened and he unclipped his MA5B and started to fire at the infection forms that slithered through the smoke and flames. "Cortana?" He said, his baritone steely as he swept his fire from side to side.

"Well one of your grenades destroyed a power relay here in this cramped hole the Cornerians call an engineering bay! I'm rerouting power from another area now. Just do what you do best and stall!" The AI barked scornfully, a little irritated with John's ability to make simple situations more complicated than they should be.

The Spartan didn't reply, and instead focused on keeping the numerous infections forms at bay; unleashing quick bursts of 7.62 at the groups in the chances that their deaths would cause the demise of their counter-parts. Burst after burst the Spartan fired into the quickly approaching crowd, and he reloaded; slapping a fresh clip into the receiver after ejecting the spent magazine. Three seconds pass and he was forced to abandon a few feet of precious ground in order to stay out of the advancing Flood's clutches; reloading another magazine and firing that into the approaching crowd.

John grabbed another grenade, primed it, and just as he was about to toss it, Cortana stopped him. "Don't you dare throw that grenade 117! If you do, you'll do even more damage!"

The Spartan released the primer and continued to devote his attention to halting the infection form advance; layering the walls and ceiling with lead, and the floor in brass 7.62 casings. The door opened and John tossed the grenade that was already ready and dashed towards the door, leaping through just as the grenade exploded and cut the power; the doors sealing shut behind him as soon as he cleared them.

As soon as the Spartan impacted on the floor, he was up on his feet and scanning the area, his floodlight cutting through the green fog that choked the hallways. "Spartan, I'm activating the engine overload now that the safeguards are out of the way! We need to get to an elevator and to the hanger yesterday! We have nine minutes! MOVE OUT, JOHN!"

John didn't need any encouragement, and he hefted the mini-gun and ammo pack before he began to sprint down the hallways towards the nearest elevator as marked on his visor; taking directions from Cortana on the fly as they soared through the dimly lit corridors. As they made their way through the maze of similar looking corridors, Flood stepped in to impede their progress, their numbers not sufficient enough to try another large attack, or the "Flood Wave" strategy as it would be later named by the crews responsible for reviewing combat footage.

With the mini-gun in one hand, the Spartan grabbed one of his M6Ds and flicked the safety off. The explosives packed into the cores of each bullet allowed John to double-tap each Flood form; using two of the large 12.7 mm rounds instead of four or five. Spartan-117 aimed for the chest cavities of the Flood Combat forms, the explosions often destroying the infection from within. With five combat forms down, John reloaded with one hand as he resumed his firing, dropping Flood and using his armor as a battering ram against Flood that got too close; shooting off their tentacles and ramming into them with his shoulder.

"John! Take a right here and haul! Eight minutes!" Cortana barked, and John immediately followed his orders as the timer at the corner of his HUD ticked down. The Spartan hugged the corner and blasted a lylatian combat form in the chest with the large-bore handgun; the plastic explosive packed into the tip destroyed the infection for within. John shoved the body to the side and picked up his pace, placing the pistol back in its holster as the number of Flood in his path diminished; instead focusing on dodging those that were in his path.

"Cortana, can you open the elevator doors?" The super soldier questioned as he vaulted over a small group of infection forms; two of them sparking against his shield as they lunged at him from mid-air.

"I'm on it. But I can't open it too early." Cortana replied, and John hummed in reply as he rounded a corner and spotted the elevator; and thankfully, there were no Flood near it, only behind him.

John sped towards it, and Cortana opened up the doors. Once John was through, he turned around and un-holstered an M6D and began to fire into the approaching crowd; the doors shutting slowly. "Could these doors be any slower?!" Cortana growled in frustration as the reinforced doors lumbered closed. With the doors shut, the Spartan reloaded the handgun and placed it back in his holster as he pulled the ammunition pack onto his back and grabbed the mini-gun.

With a quick spin of the barrels, John concluded that his ammunition stores were sufficient and his weapons were in working order. "Any heavy resistance predicted as we make our escape route?"

"Not that I can tell…but I think that the Covenant might have set up shop their because of the number of troops we encountered at one of their checkpoints."

"Call in our ride, Cortana. I plan on leaving with a few minutes to spare this time." The Spartan murmured as he ran through multiple scenarios in his mind on what he could handle with his current armament, looking at the indicator on the wall. According to Cortana's basic translation, they had twenty more decks to descend until they reached the hanger level.

"Horror Frost, this is Blue 01. Mission is complete and the target is cooking off. Request immediate dust-off for extraction. Additional fire teams are required to quell Covenant presence on the Hanger deck. Tell your boys to be heavily loaded and ready to make a quick get-away…we may be cutting it close."

"*static* Rodger that, Blue 01. We have teams already loaded up and should be at your position within six minutes. Over and out. It's good to see your still alive, try to come back with our boys in one piece."

John nodded, "Affirmative." Was all he said as he kept his eyes on the elevator doors. Ten more decks left to descend, and the motion trackers started to pick up movement. "Cortana?"

At five decks plasma fire could be heard as well as plasma grenades.

"We have Covenant, Chief. Let 'em have it will all six barrels. Fire rate is at one-thousand rounds per minute."

The elevator let out a soft ding as the doors slid open to display the carnage; Covenant squads battling it out with Flood Combat forms in close quarters. The barrels of the mini-gun began to spin, and John started to depress the trigger; Cortana getting in a statement that couldn't help but make the Spartan-II smirk.

"Smoke 'em like a cheap cigar."