"I can still remember it, like it was yesterday. That warped… inhuman sound, the stomps that sounded like the world was coming down around me, the howling rain, and then…" Recording notes shuddering sob, continues six seconds later. "Then she was there."
- Ryan Coranado, former Voi Metalworks technician recounting Battle of Voi.
Museum of Sacrifice, December 21, 2559
Steel and synthetic filters blocked the dust that kicked up as Pelicans touched down, the threat of getting their wings clipped by boiling plasma gone for the moment. Marines hobbled either on their own or on the arms of their comrades, others were carried in on stretchers. Some never left the field of battle, even if their body did. A final resting place, overlooking the destabilizing storm sector that covered the artifact. Fitting that some would find their long fight ended where Humanity's cradle had been.
Sealed inside of heavy armor and once again a statue made of war and loss, Morgan watched still more Marines trotting off of other Pelicans, looking fitter and fresher than those that had been attached to Karma Company. A grizzled Captain, with dark skin and steel colored eyes, belted out an order to the men he had led here, before those eyes settled on Six.
Her shotgun was held loosely in her fingers, the tube being filled one by one as shells from an ammunition pouch on her hip were slid home with only the movements of her arm going back and forth showing she was even awake in the armor.
The Captain made his way towards her, slipping through others before boots met the concrete and he began to climb up, looking up from the lip of the concrete halfway through his rise to see the blue gauntlet, caked in dust, extended to him. He latched onto it and Six pulled him up as if he weighed nothing. He was not a small man, and with a full combat load he was pushing 230 easy.
The gold visor that stared back at him was impassive, and the voice that came through was feminine, surprising him slightly. "Captain, you're moving on the battery, I take it?"
A green square covered his left eye, a small HUD seen on it from where Morgan stood. He was reading her IFF now, and she was reading his as it popped up on her own visor. "Yes, ma'am. We've been ordered to support you in whatever way we can." He held out his hand, and Six took it as he went on. "Captain Sean Roberts."
Six shook it, her hand pulling back from his to cradle the shotgun. "Lieutenant Commander Spartan-312. Callsign is Noble Six."
The Captain's features drew tight against his face, his dark skin making him seem as if he had been chiseled from an oak tree rather than born. "Six? There are more of you around here?"
A dry chuckle, and Roberts felt a chill run down his spine. "If only, Captain. No, I'm the only Spartan on the ground in the area as far as I know. But don't worry, I'll keep you safe." Steely gray eyes narrowed slightly, barely noticeable, but Six caught it. "Are your men up for the task?"
Roberts looked back over his shoulder, Six's sharp green eyes following him as he looked at the men that had been brought with him. Squad leaders were making final checks, and the three lieutenants leading his unit were double checking even those. "Yes, ma'am. We're fresh and ready to do whatever you need us for. We were in Cairo for down time, just got called in last night and came straight to the fight."
Six's visor snapped back to him, boring holes in the back of his head. "Strength? Replacements?"
Roberts turned back. "Full strength, all veterans with two tours. Some were even on Reach before she fell."
Six bristled at the mention of the bastion falling, before she hummed in acceptance. They would do well then. "Understood. Get your men ready. We move in five."
The Captain nodded and set off back to his men, feeling Six's eyes on his back the whole way. Something about her was off, and he couldn't quite place it, but it made his skin crawl.
The Spartan watched him go. Glancing at the spot on the bottom left of her HUD, where a functionless motion tracker sat, she frowned. Running suit diagnostics did nothing for her, and although she could replace the part with little effort, she didn't have any way to replace it. A hand went up to her right shoulder, releasing the massive pauldron and lowering it to the ground as she took a knee.
With a bit of maneuvering, she managed to pull a small mirror from just behind the pauldron mounting point, halfway hidden beneath the chest piece's bolt assembly that kept the front and the back together.
Gently, she pulled the mirror up to her faceplate, inspecting it for damage. The first thing she saw was that a section on the edge had melted enough to deform the mirror, and there was no way to repair it with the tools she had on hand. With an exasperated sigh, she slid it back into its place and reslotted the shoulder pauldron onto her armor. She'd be going without the tracker, and while it would be missed, she would survive without it, hopefully.
Standing and looking at the Marines, she saw that Roberts had finished briefing his men, and he was making his way back to her. Steel eyes met green. "Ma'am, ready to move on your order."
"Good, you'll lead your men to the objective, I'll do what I can to try and spearhead or support any movements you make. Let's move out."
Roberts' eyebrows knit in confusion, but he slowly nodded. "Aye, ma'am." Turning back to his men, he raised his hand into the air, circled it once, and then jabbed it towards the battery that once again fired, the sound ringing off of the walls. "Get moving, split up into platoons, keep the lines equalized. The Commander will be our hammer!"
"'Rah!" The Marines cried out, splitting into three groups of two dozen each and disappearing into the passages and doorways that led towards the industrial zone. Roberts, with a command group of a dozen men, as well as his body guards, moved behind them with Six taking up the rear, heavy boots ringing off of the concrete reassuringly to those that she followed.
They moved in silence, Roberts using a tacpad to keep track of his men as they split into their sectors, moving quickly and efficiently, and Six's boots went quiet as she started hiding herself. Spartans, even wearing half a ton of armor, could be surprisingly quiet, and more than once did one of the body guards look back to see if she was still with them, flinching as they realized she was still there.
In the distance, off to her left, the first shots started ringing out, the staccato chatter of assault rifles going up was followed quickly by the roar of a light machine gun suppressing whatever they had run into. Plasma rifles whined in return, and even the cough of a carbine sounded. The gunfire lasted nearly 30 seconds, before petering off into nothing. It was over as soon as it had started.
On the comms, Six heard a Marine call in. "First platoon, contact with a squad sized force, mostly Grunts and a Brute. No casualties, out."
The men covering Roberts steadied, weapons held tighter and heads swiveling to watch for any visitors they had. Six turned, walking backwards as she looked the way they had come, before looking forward again at their backs. Nothing had come for them, at least, not yet.
A howl went up, returned by others as a single Brute called for his kin, and was answered in kind. The bodyguards, veterans all, felt the drops of sweat already beading on their brow increase, growing heavy with anticipation and the high that always came with combat. Six frowned as the sound hit her ears, knowing that the rest of the Marines would be engaged soon.
The walls of a warehouse they were passing through gave way to the evening light, the sun touching the horizon now. Now, concrete covered the ground completely, turning black as it gave in to asphalt, before returning to concrete. A maze of piping, more warehouses, and abandoned vehicles and cargo containers sat to obscure the way.
More gunfire started up on the right side, abruptly rather than slowly. It was as if an entire platoon had lit up at once, the radio crackling quickly. "This is Baker, third platoon has been engaged in force. Brutes mostly." The rattle of gunfire was heavy in the microphone. "They've got Hunters! Marines, fall back now!"
More gunfire and the channel cut out. Roberts turned back to Six, steel eyes telling her to go. She was already moving, shotgun steady in strong hands as she sprinted off to the left and down an alley that led onto a side road filled with jersey barriers and a smattering of Human corpses, along with the occasional Grunt. Even now, with boots stomping across the concrete as fast as she could move them, she could hear the gunfire intensify and then the synthetic pulse of fuel rod cannons firing. A Human scream filled the air and she pushed herself harder. Marine IFF tags began to show up through the walls as she got closer, and she ducked down another side road. Several turns and zig zags later and she could see the green beam of a fuel rod cannon passing over the opening of the final alley, a Hunter stomping out in front of her.
Second Lieutenant Randal Baker, leader of third platoon, ducked back into cover, the barrel of his MA5C smoking. He slammed another magazine into the weapon and chambered a round, the reassuring click always there to calm his nerves whenever he knew the bolt was ready. Another Marine was hit by a bolt of blue plasma, the green beam from the fuel rod cannons hitting him a moment later and cutting him completely in half.
Baker winced, before he pulled himself up and set his rifle on the concrete barrier he had covered behind, pulling the trigger with short, controlled bursts. He pushed the pain down, and watched the tracers from the fire soak into a Hunter's armor. The orange and blue behemoths were like tanks, never going down no matter how much fire was put on them. He had heard from intel that the armor from fallen Hunters was several centimeters thick and strong enough that direct hits from SPNKr rockets sometimes left it only scorched. The only thing that would reliably kill Hunters was a tank or a lot of luck, and he was short on both.
The bolt clicked empty again, locking back. He cursed and ejected the mag before sliding in a new one. When he looked up from the newly cycled bolt, he saw the fuel rod cannon shining, getting ready to fire again and hit him, and when the weapon discharged, he had all of a second to say his prayers.
But the end never came. As the weapon fired, a blue blur came form the side, smashing into the Hunter at high speed and throwing the fuel rod gun off target, the beam passing by him close enough that he felt his skin blister up on the side of his face and his arm.
Cursing, he forced himself to watch, to take up his gun and suppress the Brutes that were looking back to see why their Hunter had roared. Then, Marines and Covenant alike saw what had happened.
In the middle of an abandoned main road, with tracer fire and plasma bolts passing by each other in a deadly crossfire, Noble Six had smashed into the Hunter and threw it off balance, nearly toppling it. Now, with several eyes on her, she took on a Hunter in close combat, a knife glinting in her hands as it caught the sun in just the right way. It was as if electricity was dancing across her hand, the blade burying itself in the Hunter before being pulled back quickly, then shoved home again just as fast.
The Hunter, big and armored as it was, was hopeless in hand to hand combat against a Spartan. It could move quickly, quicker than any Marine even, but not as fast as a Spartan. It threw its shield and fuel rod gun around, trying to use them as clubs. It lowered its shoulder in an attempt to smash into her with enough force to break even her reinforced bones. But none of them connected, with the woman dancing around them with all the grace of a ballet dancer.
Baker saw the other Hunter, the second of the bonded pair, roaring and turning to try and help its kin take on the Spartan. It raised its shield and got ready to bring it down on her helpless back. Baker nearly shouted for her, but she was faster, helmet turning as if on a swivel before she leaped back, almost into the embrace of the first Hunter. The shield came crashing down and pierced the asphalt, chunks standing up around it as Noble Six advanced on the immobilized Hunter, knife in hand.
Baker couldn't call out to her at this distance, but he could call to his men. "Focus fire! Pin the first one down! Hit it with everything you've got!"
The only response he needed was the volume of gunfire that poured out in a bright wall of burning chemical tracers, chattering assault rifles augmented by the deep thunks of the squad's light machine gun, even several grenades getting thrown by the strongest in the unit.
The first Hunter was hit by the fusillade, chunks of orange being torn out of its midsection as the rounds tore into it, and with a guttural wail, it slumped to the ground, leaking more orange blood as individual worms crawled out of the armor, most dying before they could get too far. Whatever was left was blown away by the grenades blowing up just short of the massive suit of armor left where it had fallen.
The second Hunter, now with Noble Six clinging to it like a heavily armored chimp, roared again at the death of its bonded kin, shaking itself like a massive dog and throwing her free, but not before she left a parting gift.
Rolling to her feet as she hit the ground, the grenade she had planted in the Hunter blew, scattering orange gore and viscera all over the place, most going on the ground but some splashing across the walls of the buildings.
Six's weapon came up, the shotgun pointing at a nearby Brute, blowing it away with two shots. With the Hunter pair annihilated by the combined efforts of the Spartan and Marines, the Brutes began to falter, some losing themselves to their blood lust and throwing down weapons to charge the Demon. Marine fire was accurate and punishing, ripping into the Brutes and dropping them. Others tried to retreat, turning and running. One was taken down as a portion of his knee was blown to pieces by one of the heavy rounds fired from the Marine rifles.
Baker frowned, stepping out of cover as the fighting ceased. Activating his mic, he started moving for the Spartan. "Check casualties, get ready to move again." With response clicks sounding in his ear, he cut the channel and saw what she was doing. Six had knelt down next to the Brute, one massive knee planted in its back while her knife glinted against its throat.
Her head moved slightly, but he couldn't hear her, only the pained growling of the downed alien. Baker's frown only deepened, but he cleared it and pursed his lips as he saw her knife sink into the hairy neck, before being pulled back out and wiped off on the Brute's back.
Baker cleared his throat, the helmet lifting to look at him. "Anything, ma'am?"
She sheathed her knife, the blade rasping as it slid back into its home. "Negative. Start moving again when you can. I'm returning to the center. Call if you need more assistance."
With that, Six stood back up, shotgun in hands, and looked off past his right shoulder. Baker's eyes followed her as she moved off into another alleyway barely big enough for her to move through, and disappeared into the shadows.
With a sigh that passed through his nose, he saw his men had gathered together, ready to move once more, and he started to press on again. Absentmindedly, he felt and heard raindrops beginning to patter against his helmet, and it quickly became a downpour that only made him shake his head.
The war's end was in sight.
Marines from second platoon, the center group on the push to the gun, had weapons up and aimed as armor scraped across concrete, their Spartan overwatch showing herself with a tilt of her helmet. Marines, even veterans, could be rattled still, and they lowered their weapons with a sense of relief as Six moved into the middle of their formation. Her HUD showed one Marine with the silver bar of a first lieutenant, and she moved closer to him.
The lieutenant, his IFF reading as Kurt Strauss, looked over at her, nodding in greeting. "Ma'am. Good to have you with us."
None of them stopped moving, with time as short as it was. Six nodded back, but didn't say anything. In front of them, the massive bulk of the Voi Metalworks rose up out of the heavy rainfall that had blanketed the area. The sounds of gunfire and plasma discharge could be heard faintly, with some screams getting through, and the warped pulse of more fuel rods firing.
The Lieutenant was quick on his wits. "Hunters. Marines! Double time it to the metal works!"
At the drop of a hat, the Marines were hustling, gear rattling like a car halfway to the scrap heap, but none of them complained as they forced themselves onward under the weight of over 60 pounds of armor and ammo. They knew there was worse to deal with.
Six kept pace with them effortlessly, the big woman towering over the rest of the men and women that belonged to second platoon. Almost twenty feet ahead of her, the pointman slammed into cover on the left side of the massive cargo loading bay, peeking around the corner and quickly drawing it back, a plasma bolt flying where his head had been. With a curse, he jammed his weapon around the wall and held the trigger down. Brass casings flew through the air like glittering shards, and when it went dry, he pulled it back and reloaded.
The Lieutenant was up against the other side, and looked over to tell Six his plan, but the Spartan had disappeared. A cloud of dust was all that remained to show she had been there at all. Peeking around the corner, his lips parted as he saw Six had committed herself to combat already, deep in a line of Brutes that had been caught off guard as much as he had been. Two lie dead already, with three more gathering their wits.
Strauss yelled to be heard over the gunfire, the screams, the rain. "Covering fire!" The Marines that had quickly filled the doorway rushed through, weapons firing as they stormed in with water and shell casings leaving a trail. One Brute went down, missing most of his chest from the concentrated fire, and another was stopped just short of swinging his spike rifle down on Six's back before she could turn from the third Brute's corpse.
The Spartan turned quicker as she heard more screams, and civilians in the garb that was worn by most laborers in the area came sprinting in, some nearly tripping on themselves, and another civilian came hurtling through the air before impacting the wall with a wet squelch that left a massive red stain where he hit.
That was all Six needed, moving the way the workers had come, knowing that was where she needed to be. Marines followed quickly, and coming around a corner covered by a metal shipping container, two Hunters stood over another downed worker, shields raised to finish him off. These were different from the others, clad in golden colored armor rather than the standard blue.
Six's shotgun was up, the slide racking so fast it was as if it was an old slamfire style weapon. Several massive chunks were blown out of the Hunter's midsection, and with the weapon empty, she swung it up and let go. The barrel of the weapon spun around once, moving like a top, and the end came back down in her hand, grasped like a club as she pushed forward.
With a heave and a yell of exertion that the Marines heard, firing on the other Hunter to keep it pinned behind its now lowered shield, Six swung it with all of her might. The first Hunter, stunned by the loss of so many of its colony members, was wide open. A portion of its midsection simply disappeared as the stock of the shotgun cored the giant alien colony, nearly bisecting it completely before the sheer force of the impact snapped the weapon in half, the woman grunting as she felt her shoulders absorb the shock of such a hit. She could feel it reverberating through her arms and into her chest, her hands stinging despite the callouses and the heavy gauntlets.
Dropping the useless stock of the shotgun, Six didn't watch the Hunter go down like a sack of wet rocks. The ground shaking tremor she felt was enough for her, and she scooped up the cowering worker by his collar and held him under her arm, moving as fast as she could back to the Marine line.
They made a hole for her, backing up and spreading out as she passed through with the civilian. The anguished roar of the remaining Hunter meant that it no longer hid behind its shield. With the loss of its bond brother, there was nothing left for it to live for, and it charged the line. Chunks were taken out of it as it rushed the Marines, who quickly realized that staying and fighting was a death sentence. One was too slow, and with the Hunter lowering its shoulders, spines popped out of its back and ripped the Marine to shreds.
Another turned and tried to fire the rest of his magazine, but he was too slow as well. He squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the end, when he was thrown back, skidding across the concrete floor for several feet.
The sound of steel groaning told him he was still alive, and he opened his eyes. The fuel rod cannon that had been raised and swung had been stopped, held in two hands as Noble Six held it up. Her knees bent slightly, and her armor was shaking, before she grunted loudly and pushed back against the giant Hunter. The fuel rod gun was thrown away, the Hunter stumbling, but his shield came up like a counter weight and hit the Spartan in the midsection, knocking her several feet away.
"Rockets! Get rockets!" Strauss called out, assault rifle chattering loudly as he tried to cover the downed woman.
"Copy!" Another Marine rushed in, rocket launcher balanced on his shoulder. Taking a knee, he sighted in on the Hunter that was moving to avenge its lost brother, the Spartan unable to counter him again as the armor slowly struggled back to its feet.
"Backblast!" He cried, and a second later, the launcher gasped loudly and sent a rocket downrange. Hitting the Hunter dead on in the unprotected back, it blew the hunter to pieces, globs of eels and burnt gore came raining down, covering the area and coating the blue armor in a thin orange spray.
Marines began running past her, weapons up and covering, when Strauss reached her, weapon in one hand as his free hand waved in front of her visor, grabbing the attention of the woman inside.
"You good to keep going?"
Strauss watched her nod her head, not making any sounds to note that she was uncomfortable. Even her voice was level, not a waver to be heard. "We keep going. That gun needs to be taken down, and it needs to happen now."
Inside the armor, Six bit her cheek as she took a weapon offered by another one of Strauss's men. Her HUD blared a low warning tone that she quickly silenced, her feet carrying her forward despite the pain she felt in her side.
Displays came up showing her biosigns. Recording showed that her heart rate had spiked up to 140, something rare for her, and a list of warnings scrolled past it. Two ribs on her right side had been cracked, and had nearly broken. Biofoam injectors in her armor applied some to her chest, attempting to stiffen the affected area and numb the pain.
She pushed it to the back of her mind, her right hand shaking ever so slightly as it faded to nothing. Green eyes narrowed, before opening wide and taking in her surroundings.
Her discarded shotgun lay broken in half across the floor, where the Hunter had been destroyed. A frown. She had gotten used to the power it gave her, but they never lasted long on the field, either through lack of ammo or simply breaking down. Spartan deployments were ruthless on the materials and gear they used.
Around her, civilians took up whatever they could for weapons, some even being given the offered sidearms of Marines as the UNSC force pushed on. Holes in the roof made by detonations and other attacks let rain fall through in heavy sheets, acting like curtains that blocked out whatever was on the opposite side of the viewer.
Marines led the way, with Six taking her assault rifle up in both hands and making sure to check that it was ready for more fighting. Outside, the heavy form of the AA battery stood as a silhouette in the rain, firing once more and letting a torrent of steam add to the heavy mist that had come down with the rain. Visibility was nearly nonexistent, with things even ten feet out becoming little more than a muddled shape.
Six frowned at the droplets that covered her visor, but said nothing. The Marines next to her ignored it, most of them pleased with the cooldown that came with it over the hot Saharan afternoon, but the loss of visibility was already on their minds. In the distance, on the gun, they could see the lights from Brute power armor stalking around on added platforms halfway up the legs. Others moved near the feet, Grunt armor lights hidden and obscured by their plasma turrets. None of them saw the single light belonging to a Jackal sniper, but they were waiting for it, Marines constantly scanning for the ocular scope the bird like aliens were fond of.
The hiss of the gun's venting plasma filled their ears, and it shut once more, hiding the core away from them. Six looked over to Strauss, his pale, Germanic features covered in the rain that cascaded down his helmet and face. "Have your launcher stand by, wait for it to fire again, and blast it with both tubes when it does. After, we'll clear out the stragglers."
Strauss nodded to her, keying his throat mic and giving the order. The Marine hoisting the rocket launcher on his shoulder was beside the two in a matter of moments, ready to do his job.
Gunfire sounded again, near the front of the group. "Contact!"
A group of Brutes, with several Grunts, had moved down from the small hills that surrounded the gun, likely to reinforce the fallen from the assault on the metalworks. Six was in motion, rifle clutched tightly in her hands as she moved past Marines that were already running to the source of the action.
Another Marine, this one missing his head, was thrown past her, and she ducked. The grunt behind her meant a Marine had taken the body, being knocked to the ground. She kept pushing. A Brute minor, fur matted down and wet from the rain, roared. He was silenced by the chatter of her assault rifle as he got a lead dinner.
Another Marine was thrown past her. She frowned, her face creasing as she saw a Brute Chieftain roaring and swinging his gravity hammer, the massive bludgeon looking like a baton in his hands with how easily it was being thrown about. Six opened fire on him, the heavy shields eating the rounds with little more effect than if she was shooting spitballs at him.
He turned his gravity hammer around, secure in his shields, and showed the bladed tip of the hammer. It came down hard on a Marine that had gotten too close too fast, and it ripped him in half as the hammer embedded itself in the dirt.
Six cursed loudly, her knife leaving its sheath and then her hand a moment later. It spun end over end in the pouring rain, before it embedded itself in the Chieftain's eye. He roared in anger, and nearly charged at her, when another Brute got in the way, already making for the Spartan that had half blinded his packmaster.
The Chieftain, pulling his hammer from the ground, was ushered away by two Captains that flanked him, firing on the marines that had advanced to support Six.
Something about it struck her as off. Brutes never retreated, especially not Chieftains. It wasn't the time to worry about it, however, as the gun fired again and would have deafened her from the proximity and the concussion bouncing off of the small hills. The loud gasp of a rocket being fired went up and the core dropped down to vent heat, taking the rocket dead on and turning a bright red. A second rocket was on its way already, and impacted right before the armored fins sealed it back away.
With the core hit again, it failed and a loud, warped alarm sounded. The Brute that charged her was filled with bullets, his shields and armor failing, then his body taking the shots directly. He kept going, to his credit, and nearly made it to Six, before he fell limp with his screams fresh on his lips.
"Go! Fall back!" She cried out, turning and running from the dying gun system. She could hear the screams of Grunts as they fled, but their stubby legs would never be enough to get them to safety, and the world went blue as the gun detonated, sending whips and curls of blue plasma arcing through the air, falling all around her. The shockwave passed over her and nearly threw her to the ground, but she kept her balance. The Marines weren't so lucky, most of them getting put on the ground handily with very little of a fight to be had.
Six, her mission complete, hit her comms. "Command, this is Sierra 312, gun is down. Commence Operation Undertaker."
"Copy, Noble Six. The Undertaker is in."
The voice that sounded had been Admiral Hood's, and within seconds, dozens of Longsword fighter-bombers and two UNSC frigates that had been hidden away behind hills and valleys shot overhead, displacing enough air that Six had to adjust herself to keep from being brought down again. Marines were still as unlucky as the gun had left them, cursing violently at being thrown about like little more than toys.
The UNSC Forward Unto Dawn and Ode to Autumn were setting up firing solutions already, missile tubes on their hulls opening and shooting out hordes of Archer and Screamer missiles numbering in the hundreds that climbed away from the ships for several seconds before reorienting and blazing for their target. Their target was the keyship that had settled into place on top of the artifact, and it did little to activate defense systems to defend itself. No shields were present, and the closest Covenant ships were out of range to intercept the missiles or the fighters. The Longswords closed in and dropped their payloads before pulling away and fleeing as fast as they could.
The thick trails of smoke and the bright exhaust of the missiles cut through the rain like bolts of lightning, their job nearly complete. Seconds before impact, the twin MAC guns on the frigates roared and accelerated heavy titanium slugs to many times the speed of sound, the keyship taking the shots dead center, and with the massive explosions that racked the ship, the missiles impacted and even more fireballs blossomed across the ship's frame.
"This is Forward Unto Dawn Actual, confirm multiple good hits on target. Admiral, we've broke her back, Undertaker is complete."
Even now, Covenant ships, rather than engage the UNSC frigates despite overwhelming superiority, began to climb up and away from the smoke that covered the keyship. Then something caught her ear, something that overpowered even the rain and the heavy engines that powered the frigates. Something that made the Earth tremble beneath her boots.
The artifact, older than even the Humans that had learned to live again on a world made dead, was lowering itself, and the keyship with it. Giant metal fins began to rise up, to flank the keyship on all sides and nearly hit one of the frigates. The metal flooring began to spread and split, and to reveal a cavern that lay beneath the steel, before a bright light was born.
Beneath the keyship, and the metal flooring, rivers of light came to life, casting light on everything before a massive beam took form and shot into the clouds above, giving off a shockwave that staggered the frigates, nearly bringing them down as the Ode to Autumn struggled to right herself, and Forward Unto Dawn barely avoided colliding with the now upright petal that had missed her. Lighting in the storm above arced from point to point in all directions, a light show outstripping any pyrotechnics display.
The shockwave came closer and closer, with Six barely having time to yell for the Marines to brace, when it hit her. She was taken off of her feet as if by a massive hand, angry at her insolence and upright standing, throwing her into a rock wall just barely taller than her, and she could feel the rocks shatter behind her, her helmet cracking against the surface of it. Her ribs, despite the numbing of the biofoam, screamed in protest at the treatment they were getting, and her vision flared white for an instant.
Grunting against the pain, she slid down to the ground, making no move to rise up as she was having enough trouble keeping her head up after such a hit. One final effort to look, to see what had happened, and she was filled with the blue beam thickening rapidly, and glowing a bright white, one that her visor struggled to polarize against. Her hypersensitive eyes were subjected to too much, and then she heard it, something that once again brought the bells to her ears. Those same bells from so long ago.
Noble Six struggled to her feet, shaking her head as her vision began to finally clear, the impact having done more damage than she had thought. Looking up, she saw something new, something different. The clouds above the artifact had coalesced into a deep, black void, surrounded in blue energy. Every petal that surrounded the artifact was sending some form of energy up to it, blue bands wafting up as if they were smoke being drawn in.
The two frigates, still struggling against what had happened, were sinking low, Covenant ships moving towards the portal and forcing them to take evasive action as they dropped altitude and rolled to evade.
In the center, the keyship had survived the brutal onslaught the UNSC had staked everything on, rising out of its pedestal on a column of blue fire that propelled it upwards and into the portal, disappearing into the void as if nothing had happened.
Static filled Six's ears, a rattling cough fighting its way through as Admiral Hood was heard despite everything. "What did Truth just do!? Did he activate the rings?"
Commander Keyes, far from the field, was the first responder. "Negative sir, but he did… something."
Six watched the Covenant ships follow the keyship up, moving at full burn that left wakes of blue fire behind them, disappearing into the portal soon after.
Hood, with one more shaky cough, swallowed loud enough for Six to hear on the channel. "Evac the wounded, regroup. Wherever Truth went, we'll-"
Another voice took over the channel, laced with alarm. "Sir! New contact slipping in, angels four!"
A sound like thunder filled the air as a blue portal was opened to Six's left, several miles distant. A Covenant ship slipped out of it, flying at high speed and in an erratic pattern as it sunk down and barely avoided crashing into the side of the cliffs that had been excavated during the Covenant's digging. It rose up out of the chasm, passing by Six close enough for her to see something was different.
Smoke was drifting from it in thick black clouds, a greyish miasma coming off of it in waves. Pods and bits of debris were dropped from the ship many pieces at a time, all trailing that same grey substance that had Six's blood turn to ice in her veins, to remember all the things that had outdone any nightmare she'd ever had, to strike fear into her with only a glance.
It passed in front of her, rising again before nosing back down, passing out of view. A handful of seconds later and a tremor went through the Earth as a flash brightened the dark sky, the sound of a crash hot on its heels.
"Did it just go down? What happened?" Hood's voice was confused.
Six was his only response. "Hell came to us, sir. Move to quarantine it. Code Broken Arrow."
Silence, and the gears started turning. "...Copy, all forces, begin operations for Broken Arrow immediately, combat actions against Covenant forces are a secondary concern now. Anything that's not Human, put it down."
With Earth under assault not only by the Covenant and their genocidal ambitions, but an ancient horror come back to achieve its final goal, Six took her weapon in both hands and took a deep breath, one that steadied her resolve in the face of the darkest nightmares, and set off for the crash site.
With the rain still coming down in sheets that rivaled that of a hurricane, Six could barely hear the boots of the Marines behind her scraping along in a group that followed the Spartan into what might very well be the death of them all. Gunfire had settled into a constant back and forth chatter that accompanied the cries for help on the radio, and the distant howl of the Flood as it took its first hosts since the battle of Installation 05.
"Oh god, they're- they're not Human! They're taking the living and the dead and turning-" A scream filled the channel before being cut out by gunfire as one of the men around the Marine put him down, saving the helpless man from the horrible fate had had been nearly subjected to.
Six, jogging along in the front of the group, had coached them already, had told them what to look for and do. The weak points, their strategies, their methods, everything she could from the battle that had nearly been the end of her on High Charity.
None of them seemed to believe her at first, but Strauss's hard voice had made sure they all took the Spartan's advice seriously. He had argued that she had no reason to lie to them about something like this, and as the platoon moved into the section of the industrial park handed over to the Tsavo Desalination Plant, they met the first Flood presence they had seen head on.
A combat form, one in the shape of a Marine, turned on them with its distinctive growl, the warped vocal chords giving it a high pitched whine that made Six's skin crawl. One of its arms was ripped apart by the massive tentacle that had formed, bones and muscle ripped apart and shoved aside as it evolved for whatever it needed.
Two ravaged legs carried it forward, the tentacle slapping the ground and launching it into the air as if it was a pole vaulter. It flew true, nearly coming down on one of the Marines that had been frozen with fear, of the unknown and of the possibility he may be killing one of his own.
With the form still in the air, Six's rifle bucked against her shoulder, the heavy jacketed rounds firing from the MA5C and ripping into the combat form with enough force to throw it off course and send it crashing down to the ground off to the side, where one of the other Marines unloaded into it without a second thought. If Six was going to shoot them, then so would he.
Six frowned, gesturing to the Marine before jerking her hand towards the center of the formation. Another grabbed him and moved the man to the center where he would be less likely to freeze up, and then die to the hands of this extraterrestrial horror.
Six nodded, carrying on as her mind swarmed with the remembrance of her fight through the infected and falling High Charity, of the frantic sprint through the station in an attempt to both stop Truth and to simply stay alive as the dead filled the halls of the Holy City. Nothing had ever unsettled her so much. Not her family and world falling, not her brothers and sisters going, not the augmentations. The Flood awakened something in her, a primal fear that predated even the oldest Humans, something that had been planted in them after the firing of the Halo Array by someone greater than the sins of her people.
More warped cries went up, tearing her out of her mind and forcing her back to the present. Marine IFFs were appearing now, all of them flashing from white, to yellow, to red as they were hurt and killed, or their neural network was taken over by the Flood's parasitic embrace. Already over a dozen had been downed, and Six pushed on, desperate to save more.
With the loss of her motion tracker during the heavy fighting, and the lack of visibility that she so desperately needed right now, she couldn't risk moving too fast, lest they get caught out and swarmed from the sides.
A scream went up from the rear, the Spartan swinging around as if on a dime and she pressed back, the sight of the Marine in question coming up quickly. He was being mounted by an infection form, with more of their pods skittering across the ground. Marines began to try and stomp them out, shoot them, swat them, whatever they could to pop the balloon like creatures. The Marine already grabbed was struggling to pull it off, with another doing his best to rip the infection form from his comrade, but there was no use as the infection form stabbed the neural penetrator into the Marine's neck, his limbs being taken from him and flailing about bonelessly
Rapidly, conversion to a Flood combat form started happening, and another Marine pulled his uninfected comrade back, the man screaming as he watched his friend be consumed, little more than a pawn held by a hand from beyond the grave.
"Brian! We have to stop it, it'll kill him!" He screamed and fought, trying to fight back, when he saw the half transformed Marine eat several bullets, the puppet having its strings cut abruptly and falling to the ground, where it crushed the still exposed infection form.
He howled in anguish, looking back helplessly at the Spartan that held the smoking rifle that had fired those rounds, her aim shifting immediately to continue picking off more of the infectors.
The Marine was left a wreck, one that had watched one of his closest friends go down not to Covenant plasma fire, but to a creature he had no idea how to fight, one that took over his very body, and was put out of his misery by a Human warrior. The Marine that had pulled him back from the brink that had ended Brian's own life reared back as far as he could and slapped the Marine, halting his cries.
"Get a hold of yourself! We have to keep moving or it'll happen to us too! Grab your weapon and get your shit together, because We. Are. Leaving!"
With a hand to his face, the Marine wordlessly nodded and took the rifle that he was given, swallowing as the rain streamed down his face, masking any tears that trickled out of eyes belonging to a broken heart.
Six, the area clear of infection forms for now, looked at him, and he looked back. His lips parted, but nothing came out, and the Spartan turned away, moving back to the front of the group. Strauss, his face set in a grim line, had his weapon tucked into his shoulder as she walked past him.
In the distance, the warped cries and the sound of gunfire grew as they stepped inside of one of the half destroyed buildings, moving out of the rain and into barely working flourescent lighting that only showed the greenish fog that covered the ground at ankle level. Human blood and other green fluids were splashed across the floor and the walls, and broken, mutated corpses lay where they had fallen, broken beyond any form of repair.
Six led the way, her rifle up and her face tight inside of her helmet. Her breathing, steady and calm, did little to cover up the nightmares that foamed at the surface of her conscious, always keeping her on the edge of screaming as she felt the urge to just hide in a corner and cry, like all the others so desperately wanted to do, but she would never have that option. Death or victory would be her only options with the lot she had been given in life, and Spartans never died.
They were only missing in action.
Admiral Hood, stuck on the bridge of the Forward Unto Dawn, felt his mouth hanging open in abject horror, cameras all over the ship watching as the hordes of infection forms rushed out of the downed Covenant cruiser, many reaching the Marine lines and causing havoc immediately.
"Open fire with all point defense guns on both ships, keep that tidal wave back as far as you can!"
The Dawn's weapons systems officer didn't hesitate, calling Marines on all channels. "Marines in vicinity of cruiser, hold fast. Danger close, keep your heads down."
The three twin barrel M870 Rampart point defense turret on the ship's sides and belly, and the Autumn's own guns opened up, spitting heavy slugs that pounded the Earth near the downed cruiser, dust and smoke kicking up with the flames from the high explosive shells, obscuring the target area and adding to the lack of visibility the rain brought with it. Marine forces on the ground cheered as they felt that their job was done for them, but that was short lived. Infection forms numbering in the hundreds were still crawling out of the ship as fast as they could, skittering across the ground in droves that the Marines quickly opened fire on again.
"Forward Unto Dawn, this is Lima Company, they just keep coming! Requesting archer missile strike!"
Hood frowned as the call came in, and it only deepened with the fire control officer's response. "Lima Actual, all missile pods were expended during Undertaker. You have to hold on as long as you can." After a pause and a swallow, he went on. "God forgive me, I'm so sorry."
Lima Actual, after what felt like an eternity, responded with iron in his voice. "Roger Dawn, we'll hold them for as long as we can. Remember us, and know we fought well." The officer went to cut the channel, but Hood stopped him, shaking his head.
Despair was already setting in on the bridge, and morale was sinking as they fought against unknown odds, and something worse than even the Covenant. With the voice of Lima Actual going on even now, Hood piped it through to the rest of the ship.
"You heard the Dawn, boys. We aren't getting any more support than what we've already got. Make the most of it and dig in deep. This will be our finest hour! This is where we hold them! Show them why they fucked up by coming to our world, by fucking up a damned good fight, by thinking they could turn us against each other like puppets!" An audible swallow, and his voice sounded ever louder, the gunfire in his headset picking up in pitch and intensity. "Remember this day, because it'll be ours for all time!"
A chorus of men responded, audible even over the commander's comm link. "Oorah! Show those fuckers who's boss!"
Hood listened, the words of a long dead Spartan king sending pride surging through him as the mood on the bridge moved from despair to something else, something that could only be described as hatred, as a furious determination that arced through the air like electricity in a storm.
The comms chatter went on for several minutes, going from unintelligible cries and gunfire to a chorus that seemed like a song, before Hood realized what it was. They were singing, they were chanting, they were laughing, and it went on until only one voice was left, and when Lima Actual finally fell and joined his men in death, the channel went quiet, save for the boom of thunder in the distance and more gunfire as the next line was engaged.
Hood bit the inside of his cheek as he put his hand on the weapons officer's shoulder. "Continue firing into the swarm, do what you can."
"Sir," the officer responded, setting to his task and putting the thoughts of those men on the ground out of his head. Hood would remember them all, remember those who gave their life against something that had only ever been seen in fiction.
Moving to the strategic overlay that covered the holographic display table, he pulled it back until he saw what he was looking for, Noble Six's armor transponder moving through the industrial zones, always going for the cruiser even as more Marine IFF signals fell around her, only a smattering of them left with the Spartan on her push to the downed cruiser.
Closing his eyes, he exhaled through his nose, and then something changed.
"Sir!" One of the bridge crew called to him, a small earpiece in hand. "Report from the Cairo, it's big!"
Taking the earpiece, Hood slid it into his ear, voice all authority as he responded. "This is Admiral Hood, this better be important."
The voice that came over the link was strong like steel, deep and gruff, and one of the single largest pieces of good news that he had heard all day.
"Sir, Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117, reporting for duty."
Decided to save the author's note for the end. Now that I'm making more and more of the scenes as I go, things have slowed down. So, that whole updating every week that I was kicking out when I first threw out A Noble Cause is probably gonna move down to once every two, maybe three weeks. But, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I was writing the scene for the final stand of Lima Company and I threw some of Leonidas' quotes from 300 in because I loved those rule of cool style last stands. Finally, I know plenty of you have been waiting for our Jolly Green Giant to show up again, especially since he's in the cover now, so here's hoping I can write him well. Anyway, thanks for reading, you guys! Until next time!