CHAPTER 6
2230 Hours, August 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Center field of Raiek Compound
Foehammer landed gracefully on the ground, her engines rumbling the very snow beneath their boots as the ship came down and placed herself in the midst of the UNSC army. Glowering faces and happy soldiers watched as the boarding ramp slowly hissed open. From the darkness of the interior, the pilot stumbled out, received gratefully by Alex and his Spartans. Next, Master Commander James Carser tumbled out, injured from his clash with the Elite. The plasma sword had left a mighty injury to his shoulder, but he was determined to overcome it.
Literally falling into the arms of Jason and Bryce, James stared up at them through his visor. "I....made it," he grumbled. "Thank Alex for firing his sniper's rifle at the Elite up there."
Jason laughed aloud at the Commander living. But he was confused on one note. "Alex never fired a single shot."
Later that night, the Spartans sat around a campfire, primitive for their times but effective. They roasted meat on a spit. Their helmets were off, sitting by their respective owners. According to Jarrett's readings, the air was breathable, although just barely. But only Alex was brave enough to attempt it.
"We have to make sure that the Prophet is dead before we handle this place," James said as he tore a chunk of delicious meat from the spit.
Earlier that day, all the Marines had left in Foehammer, cramped together. There were only sixty-some odd number left. Around one-hundred- fifty had originally come. The dead were taken out by the insane Grunts and their Elite superiors.
Between chews, Alex agreed. He was leaning on the Warthog parked neatly in their little space on the side of the open ground, only several hundred meters from the large opening in the base meant to receive ground vehicles. "We'll have no other choice. Unless that thing's dead, there's no way Raiek will ever fall. Their psychic powers are limitless."
Jarrett piped up. "True, but I think there's some way we'll be able to destroy them."
"I hear they can stop bullets in mid-air!" Jason breathed, gasping on the heat of his slice of meat, blowing on his burned fingers. "That might become a snag."
A 'snag' was anything the Spartans didn't know how to handle.
James sighed heavily. "Maybe. But I think there still has to be a way to—" Just then, a plasma bolt ripped into the ground right behind James, sending him forward, right over the fire. Sprawling on the ground, he jumped back up as the entire team watched a Ghost vehicle dart away. Its pilot was a grey Elite, who released a grenade as he left.
Instantly, Jason was on his feet and running after the vehicle. He was the fastest of them all, and could keep up with the Ghost. As he drew near, he flung himself head-long at the Ghost, landing on the back and crawling up to the front. Seating himself behind the Elite, he drew a pistol and aimed it at the warrior's head. "Tlah!" Jason said, speaking in the Covenant talk.
Tossing his clawed hand around, the Elite knocked Jason backwards. Stabilizing himself instantly, Jason smacked the Elite across his neck with the butt of his assault rifle, knocking him flat. Jason gripped the Ghost's controls and slowed the hoverbike to a stop. Getting off, he inspected the Elite. Slinging the warrior on his lap, he traveled back to the Spartan camp.
When he arrived, he laid the body on the ground next to James, who looked over the body. With a tap, the Elite began to stir, rubbing his neck. "What do you want, filth?" James spat, leveling his pistol at the Elite's head. "Spit it out!"
Sitting up to a forty degree angle, the Elite sputtered out his piece. This time, he spoke in the English language, trying to make it easier on the Spartans to understand him. "My name is Farr 'Tenglannee. I am the Rebel General of the Covenant Resistance force, currently holding five hundred Grunts, four-hundred-thirty-nine Elites, two-hundred-fifty-nine Hunters, and two Prophets. We don't have any Jackals. They are hard to convince."
Alex came over. He aimed a gun at the Elite's head. "Are you part of a...Covenant Rebel force? I thought Elites were born and bred to fight for the Covenant."
The Elite propped himself up further, looking the Spartan right in his visor. "I am. But some of us go against that instinct, and resist our Prophet leaders. I had no intention of harming any of you. I just wanted to know if you were Covenant or UNSC. My intention was to get your attention and draw you into our cause." He rubbed his neck in the area where Jason had struck him. "I need to know if you will join us."
Jason, Jarrett, and Bryce came over. "I think we should side with him." James breathed deeply, his words affecting the team.
"Why is that?" Bryce asked. "It could be a complete lie."
"If it was a lie, do you think we'd still be alive? The Covenant would be all over us!" James growled. He kindly helped the Elite to his feet. The warrior towered over any of them. Holding a plasma pistol in his right claw, he spoke to his new friends.
"So, will you join our cause or not? If you will not, you are our enemies, along with the Covenant."
"We will join your cause. If you help us destroy Raiek, the UNSC will take in whatever is left of your team, and you shall be protected by the Spartans. Perhaps you could get us information only ones of your kind could."
Farr shifted uncomfortably. "I know something you do not. The Covenant have a second cannon on the moon of this planet. It hangs just off of this planet's surface. As you know, Raiek is much smaller than most other planets, so it only has enough gravity to support one moon. But the Covenant are using that to their own advantage. We need to stop them. If they use either cannon on Earth, your planet will not stand a chance."
"Fortunately they haven't found Earth yet," Bryce said.
Jason held up a hand. "Where are they drawing the power from on the moon? I thought the main reason Raiek was being used was because its core was liquid plasma, and that was needed to power the weapon? But how is the moon to be used?"
Farr turned this idea over in his head, holstering the pistol at his side. "Very good reasoning. There are transport ships carrying barrels full of plasma to the moon. That is the backup. If Raiek's fails, the moon's will be their only hope."
James held up a hand. "How much plasma is on the moon now. Do you even know?"
Staring upwards, Farr shoook his head. "We do not currently know how much plasma they have, but the ships have been moving back and forth between moon and planet for weeks now, carrying hundreds of canisters each way, so there much be a rather large amount."
"We will use Raiek's cannon to destroy the moon," Alex said simply. "Then, we use Raiek's cannon and reverse its polarity. All that plasma charge will flow back into the core. Since the plasma regenerates, it will overfill, and blow the entire planet away."
"That would work," James said. He turned to Farr. "What are the risks of doing this?"
"Since neither cannon has been fired as of yet, there's no telling what will happen when it does so. It could be malfunctioned and destroy the entire planet by self-destructing. However, the entire mission could be a success."
Jarret piped up. "The Marines are returning in the morning. If we wait until they arrive with even more force, we could divide into two teams. Pillar of Winter could send us several more Pelican dropships. Half our force could go to the moon, and the other half remain here."
"Where do the Spartans go?" Jason asked.
"We all remain on Raiek," James interruped. "Because their forces will be stronger here. Perhaps Moores can call more Spartans in to help the moon task force. But we stay here. I started here, and I'm going to finish here. We don't leave this planet until our misison is accomplished."
Farr jumped back onto his Ghost. As the engines hummed to life, he saluted his new hope. "I will inform my troops of this new turn of events. And if they approve our plan, we will begin in two days." Farr hit the accelerator and sped back into the compound. As he sped off, he turned his neck around backwards. "Doog kcul!" he called in his own tongue. He had meant 'good luck.'
It was obvious that the Rebels took up residence right under the Covenant's noses. Inside their own compound. But that was a good thing, because they wanted to get to know the enemy, be near the enemy. Things were looking brighter that night as the Spartans resumed their places around the fire.
2230 Hours, August 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Center field of Raiek Compound
Foehammer landed gracefully on the ground, her engines rumbling the very snow beneath their boots as the ship came down and placed herself in the midst of the UNSC army. Glowering faces and happy soldiers watched as the boarding ramp slowly hissed open. From the darkness of the interior, the pilot stumbled out, received gratefully by Alex and his Spartans. Next, Master Commander James Carser tumbled out, injured from his clash with the Elite. The plasma sword had left a mighty injury to his shoulder, but he was determined to overcome it.
Literally falling into the arms of Jason and Bryce, James stared up at them through his visor. "I....made it," he grumbled. "Thank Alex for firing his sniper's rifle at the Elite up there."
Jason laughed aloud at the Commander living. But he was confused on one note. "Alex never fired a single shot."
Later that night, the Spartans sat around a campfire, primitive for their times but effective. They roasted meat on a spit. Their helmets were off, sitting by their respective owners. According to Jarrett's readings, the air was breathable, although just barely. But only Alex was brave enough to attempt it.
"We have to make sure that the Prophet is dead before we handle this place," James said as he tore a chunk of delicious meat from the spit.
Earlier that day, all the Marines had left in Foehammer, cramped together. There were only sixty-some odd number left. Around one-hundred- fifty had originally come. The dead were taken out by the insane Grunts and their Elite superiors.
Between chews, Alex agreed. He was leaning on the Warthog parked neatly in their little space on the side of the open ground, only several hundred meters from the large opening in the base meant to receive ground vehicles. "We'll have no other choice. Unless that thing's dead, there's no way Raiek will ever fall. Their psychic powers are limitless."
Jarrett piped up. "True, but I think there's some way we'll be able to destroy them."
"I hear they can stop bullets in mid-air!" Jason breathed, gasping on the heat of his slice of meat, blowing on his burned fingers. "That might become a snag."
A 'snag' was anything the Spartans didn't know how to handle.
James sighed heavily. "Maybe. But I think there still has to be a way to—" Just then, a plasma bolt ripped into the ground right behind James, sending him forward, right over the fire. Sprawling on the ground, he jumped back up as the entire team watched a Ghost vehicle dart away. Its pilot was a grey Elite, who released a grenade as he left.
Instantly, Jason was on his feet and running after the vehicle. He was the fastest of them all, and could keep up with the Ghost. As he drew near, he flung himself head-long at the Ghost, landing on the back and crawling up to the front. Seating himself behind the Elite, he drew a pistol and aimed it at the warrior's head. "Tlah!" Jason said, speaking in the Covenant talk.
Tossing his clawed hand around, the Elite knocked Jason backwards. Stabilizing himself instantly, Jason smacked the Elite across his neck with the butt of his assault rifle, knocking him flat. Jason gripped the Ghost's controls and slowed the hoverbike to a stop. Getting off, he inspected the Elite. Slinging the warrior on his lap, he traveled back to the Spartan camp.
When he arrived, he laid the body on the ground next to James, who looked over the body. With a tap, the Elite began to stir, rubbing his neck. "What do you want, filth?" James spat, leveling his pistol at the Elite's head. "Spit it out!"
Sitting up to a forty degree angle, the Elite sputtered out his piece. This time, he spoke in the English language, trying to make it easier on the Spartans to understand him. "My name is Farr 'Tenglannee. I am the Rebel General of the Covenant Resistance force, currently holding five hundred Grunts, four-hundred-thirty-nine Elites, two-hundred-fifty-nine Hunters, and two Prophets. We don't have any Jackals. They are hard to convince."
Alex came over. He aimed a gun at the Elite's head. "Are you part of a...Covenant Rebel force? I thought Elites were born and bred to fight for the Covenant."
The Elite propped himself up further, looking the Spartan right in his visor. "I am. But some of us go against that instinct, and resist our Prophet leaders. I had no intention of harming any of you. I just wanted to know if you were Covenant or UNSC. My intention was to get your attention and draw you into our cause." He rubbed his neck in the area where Jason had struck him. "I need to know if you will join us."
Jason, Jarrett, and Bryce came over. "I think we should side with him." James breathed deeply, his words affecting the team.
"Why is that?" Bryce asked. "It could be a complete lie."
"If it was a lie, do you think we'd still be alive? The Covenant would be all over us!" James growled. He kindly helped the Elite to his feet. The warrior towered over any of them. Holding a plasma pistol in his right claw, he spoke to his new friends.
"So, will you join our cause or not? If you will not, you are our enemies, along with the Covenant."
"We will join your cause. If you help us destroy Raiek, the UNSC will take in whatever is left of your team, and you shall be protected by the Spartans. Perhaps you could get us information only ones of your kind could."
Farr shifted uncomfortably. "I know something you do not. The Covenant have a second cannon on the moon of this planet. It hangs just off of this planet's surface. As you know, Raiek is much smaller than most other planets, so it only has enough gravity to support one moon. But the Covenant are using that to their own advantage. We need to stop them. If they use either cannon on Earth, your planet will not stand a chance."
"Fortunately they haven't found Earth yet," Bryce said.
Jason held up a hand. "Where are they drawing the power from on the moon? I thought the main reason Raiek was being used was because its core was liquid plasma, and that was needed to power the weapon? But how is the moon to be used?"
Farr turned this idea over in his head, holstering the pistol at his side. "Very good reasoning. There are transport ships carrying barrels full of plasma to the moon. That is the backup. If Raiek's fails, the moon's will be their only hope."
James held up a hand. "How much plasma is on the moon now. Do you even know?"
Staring upwards, Farr shoook his head. "We do not currently know how much plasma they have, but the ships have been moving back and forth between moon and planet for weeks now, carrying hundreds of canisters each way, so there much be a rather large amount."
"We will use Raiek's cannon to destroy the moon," Alex said simply. "Then, we use Raiek's cannon and reverse its polarity. All that plasma charge will flow back into the core. Since the plasma regenerates, it will overfill, and blow the entire planet away."
"That would work," James said. He turned to Farr. "What are the risks of doing this?"
"Since neither cannon has been fired as of yet, there's no telling what will happen when it does so. It could be malfunctioned and destroy the entire planet by self-destructing. However, the entire mission could be a success."
Jarret piped up. "The Marines are returning in the morning. If we wait until they arrive with even more force, we could divide into two teams. Pillar of Winter could send us several more Pelican dropships. Half our force could go to the moon, and the other half remain here."
"Where do the Spartans go?" Jason asked.
"We all remain on Raiek," James interruped. "Because their forces will be stronger here. Perhaps Moores can call more Spartans in to help the moon task force. But we stay here. I started here, and I'm going to finish here. We don't leave this planet until our misison is accomplished."
Farr jumped back onto his Ghost. As the engines hummed to life, he saluted his new hope. "I will inform my troops of this new turn of events. And if they approve our plan, we will begin in two days." Farr hit the accelerator and sped back into the compound. As he sped off, he turned his neck around backwards. "Doog kcul!" he called in his own tongue. He had meant 'good luck.'
It was obvious that the Rebels took up residence right under the Covenant's noses. Inside their own compound. But that was a good thing, because they wanted to get to know the enemy, be near the enemy. Things were looking brighter that night as the Spartans resumed their places around the fire.