CHAPTER 24
1258 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Twelve miles west of crash site of UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
Bryce looked up as he heard the roar of a Banshee's engines. He thought he might be imagining it, but a glance upwards told him he wasn't dreaming. The Banshee flew in about twenty meters above them, howling as quick as they moved across the planet, headed in the same direction. That Banshee was going for the Pillar of Winter!
Using his left hand, Bryce pointed upwards to indicate the ship in the sky. "Banshee!" he called to the Commander.
As for the Commander, James himself turned in his seat and watched as Bryce stared in awe as the flying vehicle. "What are you waiting for, Chief?" he called back. "You've got the LAAG in your possession, soldier! Use it!" Bryce instantly obeyed, swiveling the gun upwards, trying to follow the Banshee. He pressed hard on the trigger and the gun began to rattle until his hands and forearms were numb. 12.7X99mm armor-piercing bullets tore into the metal of the Banshee. Bryce watched as the pilot swooped right over top of the Warthog's LAAG, effectively moving out of the range of the weapon.
"Blast!" Bryce cried. "He's out of my range, Commander. The gun can't swivel that far up!"
Angered by the constant threat of Covenant forces, the Commander grabbed his assault rifle and turned to aim at the vehicle. After checking to make sure it was parked in the right spot, James pulled the trigger. Bullets zinged past the vehcile as it flew overhead. However, enough connected to damage the engines in the back.
Jason steered the Banshee away from the Warthog, out of sight. James sat back in his seat and put a new clip of ammo into his drained gun, tossing the empty clip out of the 'Hog. "Can you go any faster?" he asked Alex.
"I don't know, sir."
"Well, try. We want to get there before the Covies can take off." Alex's foot pressed down harder on the accelerator and he frowned with concentration while driving through dense vegetation. "Everything depends on it. The fate of the Earth and every human on it depends on us right now, men. Let's show the Covies what we can do!"
Alex pressed harder into the pedal than he ever thought possible and the Warthog took off like a rocket from its barrel and twisted through the forest.
Zazag, the Grunt tunneling leader, raised his tiny arm and waved the plasma rifles around over his head. "Hurry! We mustn't allow any failures! If Zaran thinks we did anything wrong, he'll have us for lunch!" he hollered, ordering the Grunts to work faster and keep the tunneling job moving along swiftly.
"Burn baby, burn!" one Grunt laughed, melting away hard and dense rock from the underside of the grounded ship. "Let's keep going!" he cackled merily. Zazap came over and cuffed him soundly on his head with the butt of his rifle.
"Ignore this fool, and continue with your work!" Zazap said, trying to sound as much like an Elite as he could. Elites were commonly known to bonk Grunts on the head, so Zazag figured if he did the same thing, he would be projecting authority. He knew Elites never got bonked on the head by Prophets for sure. "Work faster!" he said firmly. "If we don't finish this before those cyborgs get here, Zaran will have all our heads!" Zazap pounded another Grunt's skull to reinforce the idea. Then, he kicked the Grunt, almost as an afterthought.
"What are you pounding my head and kicking me for?" the Grunt asked, raising his rifle menacingly in challenge.
"Because I'm the leader of this digging team!" Zazag said firmly. "And because you don't have any say in when I bonk and when I don't! Just keep digging."
The Grunt looked up and pulled the trigger. Zazag dodged to the left and fired his gun, killing the Grunt. The joking Grunt, named Gagar, took a swing at Zazag but the nimble Grunt leaped over him and landed behind him with a plop! Gagar turned and raised his gun but Zazag killed him before he could fire. "Let this be a lesson to any Grunt who feels they want a say in this!" Zazag said, grinning from his lesson. "So get working!"
Seven remaining Grunts toiled hard under the watch of Zazag, the eighth. After several minutes of working, dust covered their facemasks and their muscles began to ache. However, none of them voiced their troubles to the leader, for fear of his combat worthiness. Zazag was more skilled than most Grunts in combat, and the workers knew it.
Within minutes, they began to see the portion of the hull that was buried in the ground. Three Grunts started to dig instead of burning away dirt in case they accidently hit the ship. It didn't take long for a sizeable entrance to become noticeable. More dirt and rubble was pulled away under the ever-watchful eye of Zazag. Grunts dug on the slits indicating the location of the door but they couldn't get it to budge. "We can't open it!" one Grunt said to Zazag. "It won't move."
Zazag tried to puff out his chest more and stand taller than before. "Blow it!"
The same Grunt said quickly, "But we have no explosives, Zazag—"
Using his gun, Zazag knocked the Grunt on his head. "You will refer to me by my official rank, soldier! By the way, what is your name and rank?"
"My name's Arary and I'm a First Lieutenant, sir."
"Well, I'm Two-Star General Zazag, so I definitely outrank you. Now, refer to me as General or suffer the consequences. I have been in more battles and survived more fights than probably any Grunt ever to have lived." Here, he lifted his right arm and revealed a bullet hole on the underside of it. "I got this scar from the Master Chief cyborg himself!" he said proudly. The other Grunts flinched from the sound of his name—it was a curse word in their culture. "I'm the only Grunt to live through a meeting with that one! He thought I was dead but I lived and snuck off the planet on my own escape ship."
The rest of the Grunts looked very impressed. "So, follow my orders without question!" he shreiked madly, waving the gun towards the door. "If we have no explosives, pry it open any way you ca—aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"
A suddenly jolt of electricity had shot from the side of the door. It was probably channeled through the ID scanners implanted on the side. The bolt shot towards the Grunt General and caught him straight in the chest. His suit plate exploded in a shower of sparks and the tiny Grunt screamed in pain. He launched backwards from the blast and landed hard on the ground. Zazag didn't move a muscle.
Arary hurried to the Grunt General's side, backed by two Grunts. One was named Jajar and the other was called Yoyor. They signaled to the rest that they should move away from the door and keep clear from it for the rest of the time they were working there. Arary kneeled next to Zazag and motioned towards Jajar, a certified medic.
Jajar kneeled as well and pulled out a medkit from behind his back. Sitting the case on the ground, the skillful Grunt worked furiously. He popped open the locks and then opened the case. Jajar pulled out a small penlike implement and aimed it right at Zazag's bleeding wound. With a flick of the instrument, a tiny purple beam shot from it and connected with the wound. Within seconds, the wound had healed completely.
Slowly, Zazag's head lifted and he moved into a sitting position. "What happened?" he asked, obviously still in enormous discomfort. "What was that?"
"As far as I can tell," Jajar said, standing upright and loping over to inspect the door from a bit of a distance. "The door let out an electric charge in bolt form and it struck you across the chest. Hopefully we can figure out what's causing these attacks so we can stop them."
"Probably the ship's human AI," Yoyor observed, inspecting the electric burn. "They've most likely been instructed to keep us out of the ship." He turned and faced Zazag, who was struggling to stay sitting. "That's why we've had so much trouble getting into her."
All the Grunts spun to face the door when they heard a shimmering sound. A small humanoid animal strode through the sheet metal of the door while it was still closed and faced the Covenant troops. He pointed an accusing paw up at them and growled in a low voice, "Just try and stop me!" With that, he faded from view.
"We're in a bit over our heads," Yoyor mumbled.
1332 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Five miles west of crash site of UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
The Spartans had found the overturned MBT (Mobile Battle Tank). Nestled almost snugly in the bushes and trees surrounding it, the tank rested peacefully until it was to be found. James placed a metal glove on the top portion of the tread. His Spartans carefully positioned themselves around the tank and then James raised his hand. "Heave!" In one swift motion, the Scorpion flipped into the air, spun onto its underside, and landed with a loud crash on the forest floor.
As they finished the task, Farr bounded up next to them and saluted smartly. "Awesome performance, Spartans," he said quickly, waving his plasma rifle over his head excitedly. "But I'm seeing more dropships heading towards your ship, so I think we'd better make tracks."
"Right," James said, holstering his gun and climbing into the driver's seat of the Scorpion. "The rest of you take the Warthog and drive ahead since you can go faster. Assess the situation and take appropriate action. Try and hold off the Covenant until I can arrive and help out. Get going!"
Alex scrambled into the driver's seat and Bryce again manned the LAAG. This time, Farr jumped up and planned to ride shotgun, charging his gun with a spare battery he had found and then aimed it skillfully. When Farr raised his claw to signal his readiness, Bryce followed suit. Alex pressed a button to start the engine and then pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Warthog took off quickly through the underbrush, hitting nearly fifty miles per hour within seconds.
James reached down and lowered himself into the cockpit of the tank. He had only driven one four times previously, but it didn't take much doing before he felt familiar again. When he climbed in, it seemed like the vehicle sensed his presence and started itself up. James grabbed the controls and then looked straight forward. He pressed hard on the accelerator, and the tank lurched forward, starting its death roll to the Pillar of Winter, and the rescue of the world.
Gargan led his tiny group down a corridor after glancing at a holo-map of the ship. The Elite officer had been assigned with Grath, who was not really of much help. He was almost as bad as the Grunts in slacking off and being a complete coward, unlike usual Elite characteristics.
"Think we should be moving so close to the weapons room?" Grath asked, putting a claw on Gargan's back, shaking. "Why don't we just wait a bit and then tell Zaran we couldn't find anything? It would be much simpler."
Gargan whirled around and grabbed the officer. "This ship is our only shot at beating the humans! If we let it slip because of some bonehead Elite, we'll never win the war and do what the Prophets say we must!" Gargan threw Grath down in disgust, and Grath's face was a look of utter terror. "How did you get to become an officer anyway?" he growled angrily as he turned back to face forward and resume the search of the darkened ship.
Since they were left in almost utter darkness and holding only flashlights they found on the walls for guidance, Gargan didn't notice an automated gun drop from the ceiling. It spun and faced the Elite warrior. "Duck!" Grath cried. Gargan threw himself forward and the bolt of energy caught Grath in the chest, catapulting him backwards. He hit the wall and slumped to the ground, dead.
"Scatter!" Gargan roared, for he knew what would soon follow. Three more guns dropped and started to fire instantly. Two Grunts went down almost immediately in a howl of pain, and a second Elite dropped after them. Three Grunts came crashing into one another, only to be shot and killed by the guns. Gargan raised his gun and destroyed one of the placements, but two more dropped to replace it. "Move from the room!" he yelled. "Move yourselves!"
The six remaining Grunts and three Elites followed Gargan as he hurried into the next room.
On the ground, the same cheetah that had tormented the Grunts outside appeared. It was Darkel in his chosen form. "You can run but you can't hide, Covenant scum!" He vanished without a trace while his voice lingered, echoing through the halls.
Gargan and his team came into the next room and suddenly started to hop up and down. The floor was so hot it was burning through their boots. They spun to leave, but the doors slammed shut on both walls. Continuing to jump about, Gargan roared to his comrades. "Climb the walls! It's our only hope of living!" Moving almost eerily, the Covenant Elites leaped up and clung to the walls. Grunts, however, were not as lucky. They continued to scream and hop about. "We'll hold you!" Gargan called. He would normally have left them to die, but he needed all the cannon-fodder in this place they could get. Two Grunts flung themselves at him, and he caught them.
The next Elite held two and a third held two more. The last Elite was left Gruntless. "How are we going to get out of this?" he asked.
Gargen had to think about the question for a second as he clung for dear life with his claws to the side of the room. "As far as I can tell, those doors are the only way out. We'll have to blow them off if we hope to make it out of here alive." Gargan flung himself at the door and landed on it, gripping the sheet metal with his claws. "Fire at it!" Three Elites responded and fired their plasma weapons around the perimeter of the door. Gargan drew backwards and then threw his weight forward, breaking the door and falling forwards.
"We made—aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Gargan fell forward to see an auto-gun lower and fire at him. His entire head exploded and the body fell limp. Inside the room, two more guns dropped and killed three Grunts within seconds. Two Elites leaped for the door but were shot in mid-air. Another Grunt fell to the gun and then the last Elite fell from the wall. The final three Grunts dropped to the floor and made for the door, but three rounds of bullets quickly laid them flat.
Six Howlers stood at the front of the ship. Targon held up his hand and then lowered it quickly. The five Howlers around Targon opened their mouths as wide as they would go. When Targon moved his hand forward, the Howlers let out the most earshattering scream they possibly could muster up.
"Kee-ROWWWWWWWWWW!" Combining forces of five Howlers added up to one giant shockwave. The rippling air smashed solidly with the cockpit windscreen, shattering it instantly. Sounds from the Howlers kept traveling through the ship and destroyed any chairs or seating in their way, frying computers and other instruments on the bridge.
"Let's move," Targon said, starting his now-silent group forward. Being incredibly athletic, the six warriors noiselessly jumped straight up and right into the broken bridge. A scene of utter chaos lay before them. Computers and instruments of all kinds sizzled and sparked around them. "We don't have much time before the cyborgs arrive. We have to get this load of slag operational again," Targon said quickly.
Working as fast as they possibly could, the six Howlers spread through the bridge and began to observe every aspect of the way the computers and monitors functioned. Fortunately for the Covenant, they had not destroyed any important computers in the blast, like ones that acticate weaponry and the piloting controls. They had, however, shattered shielding, tactical decisions, and more advanced maneuver controls. Basically, the ship was now a flying box.
A Howler took a seat at the pilot's chair. He gripped the controls uneasily, looking around the panel shakily at the different controls. Targon sat in the Captain's seat and ordered one Howler into the guns, another into the MAC controls, and the final two into look-out station in a glass area of the forward part of the ship. "Start it up," Targon said.
Alex gunned the engine and the Warthog used a fallen log like a ramp. It charged over the brush and trees and landed hard on the dirt, kicking up dust as it gripped the ground uneasily. "Fire!" Bryce swiveled the LAAG and faced a team of two Hunters, an Elite they recognized as Zaron, and several Grunts and Jackals.
Bryce pressed down on the trigger and hundreds of 12.7X99mm bullets flew from it, piercing the shields of Zaran and Elites standing around him. The Jackals positioned themselves in the Warthog's way, trying to protect their Elite leader and use their shields to protect themselves as well.
"Give them all we've got!" Alex shouted. "Take no prisioners!" Farr jumped from the vehicle and raised his plasma rifle. The bolts of energy quickly rebounded off the shields made of plasma supplied by Jackals. Plasma was no use. Farr reached behind his back and unhooked a plasma grenade. As he ran, he lit the tiny device and sent the purple trail flying as he hurled it at the group. The grenade landed in the circle, and Zaron shouted aloud as he threw himself out of the way.
Two explosions followed the intitial one from the grenade as more grenades went off. An Elite, a Jackal, and three Grunts fell prey to the grenade, being killed or wounded. Zaran stood tall and drew his plasma pistol. "We fight to the death, traitor!" he called in the Elite language.
"You're finally going to meet your match!" Farr said back in the same language as he hurled himself on top of Zaran. The Elite Commander ordered none to follow him as they rolled around on the ground, punching, kicking and clawing at each other. Farr ended up on the bottom and he pulled up his talons. In one quick thrust, he pushed Zaran back several feet and into a standing position. "No shooting, scum!" Zaran laughed. "Only all-out brawling!"
"I can agree with that!" Farr aimed a low kick, and Zaran jumped into the air. Farr came up with an upper-cut, but Zaran pushed off Farr's shoulder and flipped backwards, landing cleanly on the ground. Farr rushed forward and threw out a claw, but Zaran bent backwards as Farr's claw sailed right over him. Zaran returned to a standing position and spun around as Farr aimed a punch at his face, which connected. Zaran let out a small oof! and staggered backwards, while stars broke out in his vision. Farr came forward and stomped on his talon, causing him to stagger more. The enraged rebel let fly another punch to the chest, which connected, and a knee jab to the stomach, which connected as well. Zaran fell backwards and landed hard on the ground. He didn't move.
"I have defeated your leader!" he shouted to the group of Covies as Alex came through with the Warthog, mowing some of them down. "Surrender or be killed, it's your choice!" As the remaining troops raised their guns, Alex ran over the rest. He brought the vehicle to a stop and then let Farr come over. "We've taken out everyone outside, but we have to get in the ship and make final checks. Darkel should be holding it against any invaders, but—"
Alex was cut off by a rumbling sound. The engines of the Pillar of Winter were starting. The ship slowly started to lift from the ground, powering up before a take-off. They were too late! In the despair of their defeat, the Spartans hardly noticed the rumbling of three more dropships coming in. Within seconds, they were over the group and lowering themselves. The doors on the side opened, and Covenant of all types jumped out. A lone Hunter dropped hard and rumbled a warning at the humans. "Kill them!"
"Move!" Alex roared. The humans dropped back behind the Warthog and leaned out from it, firing assault rifles, pistols, and plasma weaponry. Countless frag and plasma greandes flew from both sides, and although the humans were slaughtering the Covenant as they came, it wouldn't be long before they were overrun. "This is insanity!" Bryce cried as bolts of plasma splattered against the walls of the Warthog as the dropships fired down on them. "We're going to die here!"
Alex sighed in defeat and dumped his shotgun on the ground. "Out of ammo. If only we had more firepower we could hold out longer."
A faint rumbling began to grow louder and louder. Trees could be seen being crushed in the forest as a large object made its way to the crash site. Just then, an MBT Scorpion came crashing through the underbrush. As soon as it was clear of the shrubbery, the cannon on its nose shuddered and then fired. A large shell raced towards a group of Covenant warriors and detonated on the ground. The ensuing explosion threw Covenant into the air and destroyed two Shade guns. The Scorpion drove into plain view and the turret rotated upwards. Twin mini-guns snapped on and fired up at a dropship. The ship bucked backwards from under the force and started to pull away. The cannon on the Scorpion went off again, and the dropship's aft side shatered in a fury of fire. Four seconds later, the cannon went off again, and the dropship fell into the forest in a flaming pile of metal.
James Carser, Master Commander, could be seen at the controls of the mighty vehicle. He chuckled aloud as the tank lurched into movement again. A shell flew out once again, and more warriors dropped to its wrath. The whole time, the mini-gun was sweeping back and forth, slaughtering the Covenant forces effortlessly. Within a matter of minutes, the entire battlefield was a mess of craters and devoid of living Covenant forces. All were lying on the ground, dead or maimed. James hopped from the tank and observed the Pillar of Winter as it slowly started to rise. The engines were badly damaged, which explained why it wasn't rising very fast. It would take two hours for them to clear the extremely tall trees, but they were still high enough that the Spartans couldn't jump to get there.
"We've got to stop it," he said simply. "There's no other hope for humanity."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Alex asked desperately.
"If I can get in there," James started, "and overload the core of the ship, the ensuing explosion would surely destroy the ship and bring it back to the planet's surface. The only question is getting up there."
Farr raised a claw. "I have an idea."
As the Pillar of Winter rose slowly into the air, Alex looked at it from his place in the driver's seat of the Scorpion parked slightly behind the rising ship. His helmet shielded itself against the bright glow of the sun and he saw James crawling to the end of the turret. "Fire when I tell you," he ordered and slipped to the end of the barrel. Farr was waiting of top of the cannon.
When the Commander was in place, he called out to his teammate. "All readings prove correct?" The reply was positive. "And you're sure it won't go off in mid-air?" Again, the response was positive, indicating that the shell would not go off for the length of time it would be used. "Then fire when ready!"
Alex slowly rotated the turret upwards and aimed slightly above the retreating ship. His finger pressed down on the firing controls. The cannon shuddered and exploded violently, spurting fire up in two directions as the shell hurtled from its resting place. Attahced to the back of it, clutching for all he was worth, was the Commander. He gripped the ridged edge of the shell and watched as the ship came into view. His shields were completely drained from the explosion and only because of the over-shield they had found in the cargo had he survived the blast. At that very right moment, he let go of his shell and started to fall towards the ship. As he fell, the shell shattered behind him.
Farr stood steady on the side of the turret and prepared himself. He preferred to snatch the shell as it launched from the Scorpion. Alex thought it a bit bizarre, but to each his own. Alex prepped the launch and then pressed down on the trigger again. As Farr moved like lightning to catch the shell, Zaran hurtled up from nowhere and snagged it before he could. The Elite Field Master raced through the sky like a rocket, heading towards the form of the Commander who had landed safely on the hull of the ship.
"Get another shell loaded!" Farr roared. Each shell took four seconds to load itself, but it was the longest four seconds any of them had ever experienced. They watched in awe as Zaran let go and landed on top of the Commander. The two of them immediately began to fight, James growling and Zaran hissing as they performed an elaborate fist-fight.
Alex pressed the trigger again, and the shell was off. Farr leaped out to grab it and snatched it expertly. The shell propelled him up towards the ship. As he rose through the heavens towards his target, he could see the Elite and Spartan fighting each other savagely. Farr released his shell and landed hard on the hull of the ship. Zaran was holding James by his neck with one claw, punching him harshly in the chest with the other. James was held up, helpless, being forced to just take the blows.
Landing in a crouch and slowly standing with a snarl as Zaran lifted the Commander's body higher, Farr growled, "Drop him."
Zaran turned to face his new opposer and smiled. The Spartan was becoming boring. He looked at the rebel as the Commander's head sagged backwards. Zaran dropped the Spartan and moved his body to face Farr's. "I see we have the rebel here to face me. What, the old routine getting too boring? Let's make a new one then!" Zaran flung himself head-long at Farr and landed near him. Farr came in quickly with a hook from the left, but Zaran threw up his arm to block it. Farr then went in with a punch with his right, but Zaran used his own right to stop the blow. He then retaliated with a kick to Farr's chest, and connected. Farr was lifted from the hull and tossed several feet backwards. He flew through the air, landed, rolled, and was on his talons again in seconds.
"Is that all you've got?" Zaran asked in their own language, laughing. "Show me your best!" Farr punched Zaran in the head as he came at him and knocked him to the side. Then, Farr leaped towards him and aimed a kick at his chest. The blow met its target and sent the Elite commander head-over- heels towards the edge of the hull. Farr charged him and was met with a solid punch to the jaw. Farr straightened and wavered slightly, then collapsed in a heap. "Shame, really," Zaran muttered, laughing again. "That was all he could give me!"
As Zaran turned to go, Farr reached up and grabbed his ankle. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the Elite towards the middle of the ship. Farr then jumped up, but was met by a swift kick. He cried out and skidded along the hull, coming to a stop with his head and shoulders poking over the edge. Zaran yelled aloud and ran straight for Farr, and then hurled himself forward. Farr raised his feet and caught Zaran in the chest with his talons. With Zaran still perching on top of his talons, Farr rolled and threw him backwards over the edge.
Zaran seemed to hang in the air for a moment. The realization was beginning to dawn upon him that this was no ordinary opponent. He was fierce, quick, and just as agile as Zaran himself. Then, he plummeted. He could see the ground racing towards him. The Elite then noticed a part of the ship that stuck out from the rest. As he fell past it, he reached out a claw and snagged it. Holding on with all his might, he started to climb.
Farr got over to the Commander and helped him up. "Get inside and get this ship back on the ground, Commander," he said quickly, and James nodded. He easily regained his composure and then started walking towards a ventilation shaft and ripped off the grating. In a second, he vanished into the ship.
The passage in the ventilation was very narrow, and James had to move on all fours if he were to make progress. Cramped and claustrophobic places bothered James when he was in the Marines, but training for the SPARTAN- III's erased all that from his mind. He had learned to shut out all uncomfortableness and it worked wonders in tight situations. After the long cryosleep in the Pillar of Winter to get to Raiek, the Spartans' skin had hurt like a blazing inferno. Their skin was red and raw underneath their shining green armor, and there was no pain like it. In the days they'd been out, their skin was healing rapidly, but they were still uncomfortable. James learned long ago to shut out this pain and his uncomfortable skin from his mind.
James came to a grating—end of the line. He reached down and silently slipped the cover off and set it behind him. Then, he leaned forward and dropped the three meters to the floor. Not a sound came when his boots touched the hard metal of the floor. He clicked his light on in the dark room and looked around. The light from his helmet shone around the room, casting eerie shadows along the dimly-lit walls. James was frightened, but he shut this out as well. He was a well-trained Spartan, and any pain must be banished from his mind.
It was then that James thought he saw a shimmering in front of him. He stopped abruptly and then the lights snapped on. He clicked off his light and then froze. The shimmering occurred again to his right and the Spartan Commander unholstered his M6D pistol and aimed it at the movement, which quickly vanished. James looked around more, waving the gun in all directions. Then, his head snapped up as the shimmer came directly at his face. He was picked from the ground and thrown backwards. He landed on a large object on the floor that was rectangular and rather large, skidded across it, and thumped hard to the floor. As he was picking himself up, something seemed to grab him, but he still couldn't see his attacker. The thing raised him into the air and flung him across the room. James flew far and slammed into a raised pillar jutting from the floor. He slumped to the floor in a heap. Then, he realized what it was. A Spec Ops Elite was cloaked and attacking him.
James leapt up and saw the shimmer coming for him. He aimed a punch right at where he guessed was the waist. When the blow connected, he heard a sparking and a small explosion erupted from the belt. The Elite's cloaking failed and he appeared as he stumbled backwards. James started to move forward but was tripped by something. He gasped and clattered to the floor. He spun around and looked up to see a bright beam illuminate itself. A plasma sword belonging to another Spec Ops Elite! There were two of them!
The second Elite aimed a swing down at James, but the Spartan leaped backwards, landing on his boots. The bladed Elite swung again, but James reached out and caught his arm. He held it fast and then used his knee to slam the Elite where his cloaking device was, knocking it out. James kept his hold on the Elite and then kneed him a second and then a third time. He then took out his pistol and shot him right in the face. The Elite clattered backwards and his plasma sword shattered as it hit the ground.
The first Elite jumped up and charged right at James. The crafty Spartan swiveled his pistol and fired two shots at the Elite's chest. The Elite stopped momentarily and staggered backwards (his shields were down) and then resumed his composure. James raised his MA5B assault rifle and opened fire right at the Elite's chest. Howling in pain, the subdued warrior collapsed to the floor, twitched, and died. James slammed a fresh clip of ammo into the gun and then moved into the room beyond—the bridge.
On the ground, Alex lowered himself to the grass after watching Farr take off and looked to his comrade. "Looks like we're stuck here for some time. The Commander ordered us not to follow him under any circumstances. He needed us to remain on the ground, but what for I don't know."
A distant rumbling filled their ears, and the ground beneath their boots began to move. Bryce spoke up quickly. "I think we're about to find out!" Just then, a Covenant Banshee screamed over the treetops, flying rather low and coming right for the Spartans. Alex motioned to Bryce, and the two of them raised the assault rifles they'd found in the Warthog. In unison, they began to fire upon the Banshee. Whoever was flying was obviously skilled, because the aircraft began to weave in and out of the bullets, not letting a single one touch it. "We can't score a hit, General!" Bryce yelled as the 7.62mm bullets firing at thirteen armor- piercing rounds per second continued to fly.
"Cancel the firing! I'm going to use the Scorpion. You get the LAAG." Alex jumped into the Scorpion and swiveled the turret so that it face towards the Banshee that was circling around to come in and attack again. Bryce clambered up and manned the LAAG gun, moving the turret so it, too, faced the incoming Banshee. As Alex opened fire with the mini-gun, Bryce pressed down on the trigger and it started to hammer away relentlessly. However, it seemed that no matter how they fired their weapon, the Banshee could always evade them. It moved around mini-gun, LAAG, and explosive shells from the Scorpion.
The Banshee was headed straight for the Scorpion. The fuel rod cannon on its end started to charge. Alex realized he stood no chance after the battering from plasma and jumped to the ground again. The fuel rod cannon shuddered, exploded, and then fired the large bolt of energy. "We'll never get away in time!" Bryce cried.
"Stay on the Warthog!" Alex shouted. He sprinted for it, leaped, and landed face-first in it. He found himself facing the pedal and reached out his hand. Alex pressed the pedal down, and the wheels squealed and caught the dirt just as the Scorpion exploded in a fury of metal and fire. The Warthog pulled away from the inferno in the nick of time, ripping across the ground followed by a wave of fire. When the wave died down, Alex released the accelerator and pressed hard on the brake. He slowly stood and dropped to the ground. Bryce moved the LAAG and began to fire again.
Alex slammed a fresh clip into his rifle and raised it, again firing at the Banshee. The crafty vehicle swooped under the hail of bullets and headed straight for Alex. The wing was coming right at his head. Before he could duck, the Banshee was in his face. He reached up his arm and snatched onto the short, stubby wing. He was instantly swept from the ground as Bryce still fired the LAAG. "Get me down!" Alex roared.
Bryce hopped to the ground and activated a plasma grenade. Using all his strength, he hurled it up at the receding shape of the Banshee. With a minute click, the grenade latched on and started its three second fuse. "Not a grenade!" Alex cried. The top of the Banshee flew open and a Flood combat form leaped from it and plummeted towards the ground. Then, the grenade went off.
The Banshee's left side completedly shattered. Alex struggled with himself to keep the Banshee flying as he watched the Flood land below him.
Jason roared at the top of his lungs and charged forward. Bryce raised his assault rifle and let it rip. Bullets flew through the air towards Jason, but the nimble Flood leapt to the side and used his vinelike fingers to trip the Spartan, sending him painfully to the ground. "Nice try," Jason growled. "I can see you're as clumsy as you've ever been!" Then he laughed in a gurgling, rippling way, his tentacles moving around his body menacingly as he approached the fallen warrior. "Your time has come!"
Bryce looked behind him towards the line of trees. As he watched, the trees began to vibrate, and then infection form Flood started to pour from the gathering of trees, flowing like water into the field. They were screeching and howling, thirsting for the Spartans' blood. Moving with the speed no human could match, the twenty-one-tentacled beasts flooded from the forest, hence their name, and moved right for the Spartans. "Oh, no."
Jason moved into the swarm and raised his claws to the sky. "Let them feast on your rotting bones!"
The MA5B assault rifle, fully loaded, snapped up and started to fire. The bullets moved extremely quickly, and popped the infection forms like balloons, making them explode and cause a chain reaction that killed others in the proximety. An MA5B was the first choice weapon for fighting infection Flood, and Bryce used it to his full advantage, not shooting at each Flood, but sweeping the gun around to ensure he popped every single one of the little buggers coming his way. However, even though he was making a significant dent in the middle numbers, more Flood would wrap around the outsides and attack from behind in a classic pincer movement.
Alex headed straight for the Flood, trying to move the Banshee. As it neared three meters from the ground, Alex dropped, rolled, and jumped to his feet again. The Banshee clattered to the ground several feet from him. Alex pulled out his assault rifle and began spraying the masses with the fast-firing bullets as well, following suit with Bryce and shooting while sweeping his gun across the front ranks.
1508 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Fifty meters in the air on the bridge of the UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
James peered into the room beyond, letting his visor scan every detail of the large bridge. He wanted to make sure he took out the six Howlers quickly and efficiently, not letting a single one dent his armor at all. He would need them if he was to have a visit inside the core and live to tell the tale.
One Howler was obviously the leader, as he was sitting in the CO's chair, and after several minutes of analysis, James established he was called Targon by the other Howlers. Silently slipping his finger inside the pin of an M9 HE-DP grenade, called a fragmentation grenade by most Marines (or a frag grenade), he yanked the pin and counted to himself. Four... He rolled the grenade under the chair of a Howler who was sitting at the weapons station.
Three...
The Howler looked down after hearing the rolling and moved about, trying to locate the sound of the noise. Then, he looked under his desk.
Two...
Failing to find the noise-making object, the Howler looked then under his partner's chair, still baffled as to what had made the noise.
One...
The Howler then looked under his own chair, and spotted the frag grenade resting calmly in place. He then noticed that the pin was missing, and realized he had heard the sound several seconds beforehand.
Zero.
The grenade went off with the force of a Jackhammer, throwing the chair it was under into the air. The Howler who had noticed the grenade went up in flames instantly, and his buddy was tossed across the room, a burn etched into his side. He didn't move.
"Ambush!" Targon cried, ducking behind his chair.
James rolled behind a computer and then popped over the top. His pistol flashed up as well and he fired once. He caught a Howler in the chest, and the being dropped backwards, howling in pain. James spun to the left several inches and fired again. He laid the fourth Howler down with a shot to the chest.
The Spartan ran forward and punched Targon with his M6D. The Howler screamed aloud and fell backwards. When he landed, James kicked him again and he went sprawling backwards. "On your feet, filth!" James spat, leveling the gun right at the Howler's skull. He clicked the ammo release and slammed in a fresh clip. "Up!" he yelled curtly.
"You know who I am?" Targon shouted, enraged. "I am—"
James shot him in the leg with his pistol to silence him. "I don't give a rat's ass who you are, Covenant filth!" he spat. "Up on your feet!" he growled.
"There's one problem," Targon said calmly through the pain of the bullet in his leg that was ebbing and spattering blood onto the deck. "You missed one."
James's eyes went wide and he spun around. A Howler was standing behind him with a devilish grin on his ugly face. "Kee-ROWWWWWWWWWW!" The blast impacted right on the Spartan's stomach, lifted him off his feet, and sent him right for the bulkhead of the ship. He did not stop there; the blast sent him through the bulkhead and out into the air. He was unconscious, and plummeting down to the ground at an increasing rate.
1258 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Twelve miles west of crash site of UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
Bryce looked up as he heard the roar of a Banshee's engines. He thought he might be imagining it, but a glance upwards told him he wasn't dreaming. The Banshee flew in about twenty meters above them, howling as quick as they moved across the planet, headed in the same direction. That Banshee was going for the Pillar of Winter!
Using his left hand, Bryce pointed upwards to indicate the ship in the sky. "Banshee!" he called to the Commander.
As for the Commander, James himself turned in his seat and watched as Bryce stared in awe as the flying vehicle. "What are you waiting for, Chief?" he called back. "You've got the LAAG in your possession, soldier! Use it!" Bryce instantly obeyed, swiveling the gun upwards, trying to follow the Banshee. He pressed hard on the trigger and the gun began to rattle until his hands and forearms were numb. 12.7X99mm armor-piercing bullets tore into the metal of the Banshee. Bryce watched as the pilot swooped right over top of the Warthog's LAAG, effectively moving out of the range of the weapon.
"Blast!" Bryce cried. "He's out of my range, Commander. The gun can't swivel that far up!"
Angered by the constant threat of Covenant forces, the Commander grabbed his assault rifle and turned to aim at the vehicle. After checking to make sure it was parked in the right spot, James pulled the trigger. Bullets zinged past the vehcile as it flew overhead. However, enough connected to damage the engines in the back.
Jason steered the Banshee away from the Warthog, out of sight. James sat back in his seat and put a new clip of ammo into his drained gun, tossing the empty clip out of the 'Hog. "Can you go any faster?" he asked Alex.
"I don't know, sir."
"Well, try. We want to get there before the Covies can take off." Alex's foot pressed down harder on the accelerator and he frowned with concentration while driving through dense vegetation. "Everything depends on it. The fate of the Earth and every human on it depends on us right now, men. Let's show the Covies what we can do!"
Alex pressed harder into the pedal than he ever thought possible and the Warthog took off like a rocket from its barrel and twisted through the forest.
Zazag, the Grunt tunneling leader, raised his tiny arm and waved the plasma rifles around over his head. "Hurry! We mustn't allow any failures! If Zaran thinks we did anything wrong, he'll have us for lunch!" he hollered, ordering the Grunts to work faster and keep the tunneling job moving along swiftly.
"Burn baby, burn!" one Grunt laughed, melting away hard and dense rock from the underside of the grounded ship. "Let's keep going!" he cackled merily. Zazap came over and cuffed him soundly on his head with the butt of his rifle.
"Ignore this fool, and continue with your work!" Zazap said, trying to sound as much like an Elite as he could. Elites were commonly known to bonk Grunts on the head, so Zazag figured if he did the same thing, he would be projecting authority. He knew Elites never got bonked on the head by Prophets for sure. "Work faster!" he said firmly. "If we don't finish this before those cyborgs get here, Zaran will have all our heads!" Zazap pounded another Grunt's skull to reinforce the idea. Then, he kicked the Grunt, almost as an afterthought.
"What are you pounding my head and kicking me for?" the Grunt asked, raising his rifle menacingly in challenge.
"Because I'm the leader of this digging team!" Zazag said firmly. "And because you don't have any say in when I bonk and when I don't! Just keep digging."
The Grunt looked up and pulled the trigger. Zazag dodged to the left and fired his gun, killing the Grunt. The joking Grunt, named Gagar, took a swing at Zazag but the nimble Grunt leaped over him and landed behind him with a plop! Gagar turned and raised his gun but Zazag killed him before he could fire. "Let this be a lesson to any Grunt who feels they want a say in this!" Zazag said, grinning from his lesson. "So get working!"
Seven remaining Grunts toiled hard under the watch of Zazag, the eighth. After several minutes of working, dust covered their facemasks and their muscles began to ache. However, none of them voiced their troubles to the leader, for fear of his combat worthiness. Zazag was more skilled than most Grunts in combat, and the workers knew it.
Within minutes, they began to see the portion of the hull that was buried in the ground. Three Grunts started to dig instead of burning away dirt in case they accidently hit the ship. It didn't take long for a sizeable entrance to become noticeable. More dirt and rubble was pulled away under the ever-watchful eye of Zazag. Grunts dug on the slits indicating the location of the door but they couldn't get it to budge. "We can't open it!" one Grunt said to Zazag. "It won't move."
Zazag tried to puff out his chest more and stand taller than before. "Blow it!"
The same Grunt said quickly, "But we have no explosives, Zazag—"
Using his gun, Zazag knocked the Grunt on his head. "You will refer to me by my official rank, soldier! By the way, what is your name and rank?"
"My name's Arary and I'm a First Lieutenant, sir."
"Well, I'm Two-Star General Zazag, so I definitely outrank you. Now, refer to me as General or suffer the consequences. I have been in more battles and survived more fights than probably any Grunt ever to have lived." Here, he lifted his right arm and revealed a bullet hole on the underside of it. "I got this scar from the Master Chief cyborg himself!" he said proudly. The other Grunts flinched from the sound of his name—it was a curse word in their culture. "I'm the only Grunt to live through a meeting with that one! He thought I was dead but I lived and snuck off the planet on my own escape ship."
The rest of the Grunts looked very impressed. "So, follow my orders without question!" he shreiked madly, waving the gun towards the door. "If we have no explosives, pry it open any way you ca—aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"
A suddenly jolt of electricity had shot from the side of the door. It was probably channeled through the ID scanners implanted on the side. The bolt shot towards the Grunt General and caught him straight in the chest. His suit plate exploded in a shower of sparks and the tiny Grunt screamed in pain. He launched backwards from the blast and landed hard on the ground. Zazag didn't move a muscle.
Arary hurried to the Grunt General's side, backed by two Grunts. One was named Jajar and the other was called Yoyor. They signaled to the rest that they should move away from the door and keep clear from it for the rest of the time they were working there. Arary kneeled next to Zazag and motioned towards Jajar, a certified medic.
Jajar kneeled as well and pulled out a medkit from behind his back. Sitting the case on the ground, the skillful Grunt worked furiously. He popped open the locks and then opened the case. Jajar pulled out a small penlike implement and aimed it right at Zazag's bleeding wound. With a flick of the instrument, a tiny purple beam shot from it and connected with the wound. Within seconds, the wound had healed completely.
Slowly, Zazag's head lifted and he moved into a sitting position. "What happened?" he asked, obviously still in enormous discomfort. "What was that?"
"As far as I can tell," Jajar said, standing upright and loping over to inspect the door from a bit of a distance. "The door let out an electric charge in bolt form and it struck you across the chest. Hopefully we can figure out what's causing these attacks so we can stop them."
"Probably the ship's human AI," Yoyor observed, inspecting the electric burn. "They've most likely been instructed to keep us out of the ship." He turned and faced Zazag, who was struggling to stay sitting. "That's why we've had so much trouble getting into her."
All the Grunts spun to face the door when they heard a shimmering sound. A small humanoid animal strode through the sheet metal of the door while it was still closed and faced the Covenant troops. He pointed an accusing paw up at them and growled in a low voice, "Just try and stop me!" With that, he faded from view.
"We're in a bit over our heads," Yoyor mumbled.
1332 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Five miles west of crash site of UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
The Spartans had found the overturned MBT (Mobile Battle Tank). Nestled almost snugly in the bushes and trees surrounding it, the tank rested peacefully until it was to be found. James placed a metal glove on the top portion of the tread. His Spartans carefully positioned themselves around the tank and then James raised his hand. "Heave!" In one swift motion, the Scorpion flipped into the air, spun onto its underside, and landed with a loud crash on the forest floor.
As they finished the task, Farr bounded up next to them and saluted smartly. "Awesome performance, Spartans," he said quickly, waving his plasma rifle over his head excitedly. "But I'm seeing more dropships heading towards your ship, so I think we'd better make tracks."
"Right," James said, holstering his gun and climbing into the driver's seat of the Scorpion. "The rest of you take the Warthog and drive ahead since you can go faster. Assess the situation and take appropriate action. Try and hold off the Covenant until I can arrive and help out. Get going!"
Alex scrambled into the driver's seat and Bryce again manned the LAAG. This time, Farr jumped up and planned to ride shotgun, charging his gun with a spare battery he had found and then aimed it skillfully. When Farr raised his claw to signal his readiness, Bryce followed suit. Alex pressed a button to start the engine and then pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Warthog took off quickly through the underbrush, hitting nearly fifty miles per hour within seconds.
James reached down and lowered himself into the cockpit of the tank. He had only driven one four times previously, but it didn't take much doing before he felt familiar again. When he climbed in, it seemed like the vehicle sensed his presence and started itself up. James grabbed the controls and then looked straight forward. He pressed hard on the accelerator, and the tank lurched forward, starting its death roll to the Pillar of Winter, and the rescue of the world.
Gargan led his tiny group down a corridor after glancing at a holo-map of the ship. The Elite officer had been assigned with Grath, who was not really of much help. He was almost as bad as the Grunts in slacking off and being a complete coward, unlike usual Elite characteristics.
"Think we should be moving so close to the weapons room?" Grath asked, putting a claw on Gargan's back, shaking. "Why don't we just wait a bit and then tell Zaran we couldn't find anything? It would be much simpler."
Gargan whirled around and grabbed the officer. "This ship is our only shot at beating the humans! If we let it slip because of some bonehead Elite, we'll never win the war and do what the Prophets say we must!" Gargan threw Grath down in disgust, and Grath's face was a look of utter terror. "How did you get to become an officer anyway?" he growled angrily as he turned back to face forward and resume the search of the darkened ship.
Since they were left in almost utter darkness and holding only flashlights they found on the walls for guidance, Gargan didn't notice an automated gun drop from the ceiling. It spun and faced the Elite warrior. "Duck!" Grath cried. Gargan threw himself forward and the bolt of energy caught Grath in the chest, catapulting him backwards. He hit the wall and slumped to the ground, dead.
"Scatter!" Gargan roared, for he knew what would soon follow. Three more guns dropped and started to fire instantly. Two Grunts went down almost immediately in a howl of pain, and a second Elite dropped after them. Three Grunts came crashing into one another, only to be shot and killed by the guns. Gargan raised his gun and destroyed one of the placements, but two more dropped to replace it. "Move from the room!" he yelled. "Move yourselves!"
The six remaining Grunts and three Elites followed Gargan as he hurried into the next room.
On the ground, the same cheetah that had tormented the Grunts outside appeared. It was Darkel in his chosen form. "You can run but you can't hide, Covenant scum!" He vanished without a trace while his voice lingered, echoing through the halls.
Gargan and his team came into the next room and suddenly started to hop up and down. The floor was so hot it was burning through their boots. They spun to leave, but the doors slammed shut on both walls. Continuing to jump about, Gargan roared to his comrades. "Climb the walls! It's our only hope of living!" Moving almost eerily, the Covenant Elites leaped up and clung to the walls. Grunts, however, were not as lucky. They continued to scream and hop about. "We'll hold you!" Gargan called. He would normally have left them to die, but he needed all the cannon-fodder in this place they could get. Two Grunts flung themselves at him, and he caught them.
The next Elite held two and a third held two more. The last Elite was left Gruntless. "How are we going to get out of this?" he asked.
Gargen had to think about the question for a second as he clung for dear life with his claws to the side of the room. "As far as I can tell, those doors are the only way out. We'll have to blow them off if we hope to make it out of here alive." Gargan flung himself at the door and landed on it, gripping the sheet metal with his claws. "Fire at it!" Three Elites responded and fired their plasma weapons around the perimeter of the door. Gargan drew backwards and then threw his weight forward, breaking the door and falling forwards.
"We made—aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Gargan fell forward to see an auto-gun lower and fire at him. His entire head exploded and the body fell limp. Inside the room, two more guns dropped and killed three Grunts within seconds. Two Elites leaped for the door but were shot in mid-air. Another Grunt fell to the gun and then the last Elite fell from the wall. The final three Grunts dropped to the floor and made for the door, but three rounds of bullets quickly laid them flat.
Six Howlers stood at the front of the ship. Targon held up his hand and then lowered it quickly. The five Howlers around Targon opened their mouths as wide as they would go. When Targon moved his hand forward, the Howlers let out the most earshattering scream they possibly could muster up.
"Kee-ROWWWWWWWWWW!" Combining forces of five Howlers added up to one giant shockwave. The rippling air smashed solidly with the cockpit windscreen, shattering it instantly. Sounds from the Howlers kept traveling through the ship and destroyed any chairs or seating in their way, frying computers and other instruments on the bridge.
"Let's move," Targon said, starting his now-silent group forward. Being incredibly athletic, the six warriors noiselessly jumped straight up and right into the broken bridge. A scene of utter chaos lay before them. Computers and instruments of all kinds sizzled and sparked around them. "We don't have much time before the cyborgs arrive. We have to get this load of slag operational again," Targon said quickly.
Working as fast as they possibly could, the six Howlers spread through the bridge and began to observe every aspect of the way the computers and monitors functioned. Fortunately for the Covenant, they had not destroyed any important computers in the blast, like ones that acticate weaponry and the piloting controls. They had, however, shattered shielding, tactical decisions, and more advanced maneuver controls. Basically, the ship was now a flying box.
A Howler took a seat at the pilot's chair. He gripped the controls uneasily, looking around the panel shakily at the different controls. Targon sat in the Captain's seat and ordered one Howler into the guns, another into the MAC controls, and the final two into look-out station in a glass area of the forward part of the ship. "Start it up," Targon said.
Alex gunned the engine and the Warthog used a fallen log like a ramp. It charged over the brush and trees and landed hard on the dirt, kicking up dust as it gripped the ground uneasily. "Fire!" Bryce swiveled the LAAG and faced a team of two Hunters, an Elite they recognized as Zaron, and several Grunts and Jackals.
Bryce pressed down on the trigger and hundreds of 12.7X99mm bullets flew from it, piercing the shields of Zaran and Elites standing around him. The Jackals positioned themselves in the Warthog's way, trying to protect their Elite leader and use their shields to protect themselves as well.
"Give them all we've got!" Alex shouted. "Take no prisioners!" Farr jumped from the vehicle and raised his plasma rifle. The bolts of energy quickly rebounded off the shields made of plasma supplied by Jackals. Plasma was no use. Farr reached behind his back and unhooked a plasma grenade. As he ran, he lit the tiny device and sent the purple trail flying as he hurled it at the group. The grenade landed in the circle, and Zaron shouted aloud as he threw himself out of the way.
Two explosions followed the intitial one from the grenade as more grenades went off. An Elite, a Jackal, and three Grunts fell prey to the grenade, being killed or wounded. Zaran stood tall and drew his plasma pistol. "We fight to the death, traitor!" he called in the Elite language.
"You're finally going to meet your match!" Farr said back in the same language as he hurled himself on top of Zaran. The Elite Commander ordered none to follow him as they rolled around on the ground, punching, kicking and clawing at each other. Farr ended up on the bottom and he pulled up his talons. In one quick thrust, he pushed Zaran back several feet and into a standing position. "No shooting, scum!" Zaran laughed. "Only all-out brawling!"
"I can agree with that!" Farr aimed a low kick, and Zaran jumped into the air. Farr came up with an upper-cut, but Zaran pushed off Farr's shoulder and flipped backwards, landing cleanly on the ground. Farr rushed forward and threw out a claw, but Zaran bent backwards as Farr's claw sailed right over him. Zaran returned to a standing position and spun around as Farr aimed a punch at his face, which connected. Zaran let out a small oof! and staggered backwards, while stars broke out in his vision. Farr came forward and stomped on his talon, causing him to stagger more. The enraged rebel let fly another punch to the chest, which connected, and a knee jab to the stomach, which connected as well. Zaran fell backwards and landed hard on the ground. He didn't move.
"I have defeated your leader!" he shouted to the group of Covies as Alex came through with the Warthog, mowing some of them down. "Surrender or be killed, it's your choice!" As the remaining troops raised their guns, Alex ran over the rest. He brought the vehicle to a stop and then let Farr come over. "We've taken out everyone outside, but we have to get in the ship and make final checks. Darkel should be holding it against any invaders, but—"
Alex was cut off by a rumbling sound. The engines of the Pillar of Winter were starting. The ship slowly started to lift from the ground, powering up before a take-off. They were too late! In the despair of their defeat, the Spartans hardly noticed the rumbling of three more dropships coming in. Within seconds, they were over the group and lowering themselves. The doors on the side opened, and Covenant of all types jumped out. A lone Hunter dropped hard and rumbled a warning at the humans. "Kill them!"
"Move!" Alex roared. The humans dropped back behind the Warthog and leaned out from it, firing assault rifles, pistols, and plasma weaponry. Countless frag and plasma greandes flew from both sides, and although the humans were slaughtering the Covenant as they came, it wouldn't be long before they were overrun. "This is insanity!" Bryce cried as bolts of plasma splattered against the walls of the Warthog as the dropships fired down on them. "We're going to die here!"
Alex sighed in defeat and dumped his shotgun on the ground. "Out of ammo. If only we had more firepower we could hold out longer."
A faint rumbling began to grow louder and louder. Trees could be seen being crushed in the forest as a large object made its way to the crash site. Just then, an MBT Scorpion came crashing through the underbrush. As soon as it was clear of the shrubbery, the cannon on its nose shuddered and then fired. A large shell raced towards a group of Covenant warriors and detonated on the ground. The ensuing explosion threw Covenant into the air and destroyed two Shade guns. The Scorpion drove into plain view and the turret rotated upwards. Twin mini-guns snapped on and fired up at a dropship. The ship bucked backwards from under the force and started to pull away. The cannon on the Scorpion went off again, and the dropship's aft side shatered in a fury of fire. Four seconds later, the cannon went off again, and the dropship fell into the forest in a flaming pile of metal.
James Carser, Master Commander, could be seen at the controls of the mighty vehicle. He chuckled aloud as the tank lurched into movement again. A shell flew out once again, and more warriors dropped to its wrath. The whole time, the mini-gun was sweeping back and forth, slaughtering the Covenant forces effortlessly. Within a matter of minutes, the entire battlefield was a mess of craters and devoid of living Covenant forces. All were lying on the ground, dead or maimed. James hopped from the tank and observed the Pillar of Winter as it slowly started to rise. The engines were badly damaged, which explained why it wasn't rising very fast. It would take two hours for them to clear the extremely tall trees, but they were still high enough that the Spartans couldn't jump to get there.
"We've got to stop it," he said simply. "There's no other hope for humanity."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Alex asked desperately.
"If I can get in there," James started, "and overload the core of the ship, the ensuing explosion would surely destroy the ship and bring it back to the planet's surface. The only question is getting up there."
Farr raised a claw. "I have an idea."
As the Pillar of Winter rose slowly into the air, Alex looked at it from his place in the driver's seat of the Scorpion parked slightly behind the rising ship. His helmet shielded itself against the bright glow of the sun and he saw James crawling to the end of the turret. "Fire when I tell you," he ordered and slipped to the end of the barrel. Farr was waiting of top of the cannon.
When the Commander was in place, he called out to his teammate. "All readings prove correct?" The reply was positive. "And you're sure it won't go off in mid-air?" Again, the response was positive, indicating that the shell would not go off for the length of time it would be used. "Then fire when ready!"
Alex slowly rotated the turret upwards and aimed slightly above the retreating ship. His finger pressed down on the firing controls. The cannon shuddered and exploded violently, spurting fire up in two directions as the shell hurtled from its resting place. Attahced to the back of it, clutching for all he was worth, was the Commander. He gripped the ridged edge of the shell and watched as the ship came into view. His shields were completely drained from the explosion and only because of the over-shield they had found in the cargo had he survived the blast. At that very right moment, he let go of his shell and started to fall towards the ship. As he fell, the shell shattered behind him.
Farr stood steady on the side of the turret and prepared himself. He preferred to snatch the shell as it launched from the Scorpion. Alex thought it a bit bizarre, but to each his own. Alex prepped the launch and then pressed down on the trigger again. As Farr moved like lightning to catch the shell, Zaran hurtled up from nowhere and snagged it before he could. The Elite Field Master raced through the sky like a rocket, heading towards the form of the Commander who had landed safely on the hull of the ship.
"Get another shell loaded!" Farr roared. Each shell took four seconds to load itself, but it was the longest four seconds any of them had ever experienced. They watched in awe as Zaran let go and landed on top of the Commander. The two of them immediately began to fight, James growling and Zaran hissing as they performed an elaborate fist-fight.
Alex pressed the trigger again, and the shell was off. Farr leaped out to grab it and snatched it expertly. The shell propelled him up towards the ship. As he rose through the heavens towards his target, he could see the Elite and Spartan fighting each other savagely. Farr released his shell and landed hard on the hull of the ship. Zaran was holding James by his neck with one claw, punching him harshly in the chest with the other. James was held up, helpless, being forced to just take the blows.
Landing in a crouch and slowly standing with a snarl as Zaran lifted the Commander's body higher, Farr growled, "Drop him."
Zaran turned to face his new opposer and smiled. The Spartan was becoming boring. He looked at the rebel as the Commander's head sagged backwards. Zaran dropped the Spartan and moved his body to face Farr's. "I see we have the rebel here to face me. What, the old routine getting too boring? Let's make a new one then!" Zaran flung himself head-long at Farr and landed near him. Farr came in quickly with a hook from the left, but Zaran threw up his arm to block it. Farr then went in with a punch with his right, but Zaran used his own right to stop the blow. He then retaliated with a kick to Farr's chest, and connected. Farr was lifted from the hull and tossed several feet backwards. He flew through the air, landed, rolled, and was on his talons again in seconds.
"Is that all you've got?" Zaran asked in their own language, laughing. "Show me your best!" Farr punched Zaran in the head as he came at him and knocked him to the side. Then, Farr leaped towards him and aimed a kick at his chest. The blow met its target and sent the Elite commander head-over- heels towards the edge of the hull. Farr charged him and was met with a solid punch to the jaw. Farr straightened and wavered slightly, then collapsed in a heap. "Shame, really," Zaran muttered, laughing again. "That was all he could give me!"
As Zaran turned to go, Farr reached up and grabbed his ankle. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the Elite towards the middle of the ship. Farr then jumped up, but was met by a swift kick. He cried out and skidded along the hull, coming to a stop with his head and shoulders poking over the edge. Zaran yelled aloud and ran straight for Farr, and then hurled himself forward. Farr raised his feet and caught Zaran in the chest with his talons. With Zaran still perching on top of his talons, Farr rolled and threw him backwards over the edge.
Zaran seemed to hang in the air for a moment. The realization was beginning to dawn upon him that this was no ordinary opponent. He was fierce, quick, and just as agile as Zaran himself. Then, he plummeted. He could see the ground racing towards him. The Elite then noticed a part of the ship that stuck out from the rest. As he fell past it, he reached out a claw and snagged it. Holding on with all his might, he started to climb.
Farr got over to the Commander and helped him up. "Get inside and get this ship back on the ground, Commander," he said quickly, and James nodded. He easily regained his composure and then started walking towards a ventilation shaft and ripped off the grating. In a second, he vanished into the ship.
The passage in the ventilation was very narrow, and James had to move on all fours if he were to make progress. Cramped and claustrophobic places bothered James when he was in the Marines, but training for the SPARTAN- III's erased all that from his mind. He had learned to shut out all uncomfortableness and it worked wonders in tight situations. After the long cryosleep in the Pillar of Winter to get to Raiek, the Spartans' skin had hurt like a blazing inferno. Their skin was red and raw underneath their shining green armor, and there was no pain like it. In the days they'd been out, their skin was healing rapidly, but they were still uncomfortable. James learned long ago to shut out this pain and his uncomfortable skin from his mind.
James came to a grating—end of the line. He reached down and silently slipped the cover off and set it behind him. Then, he leaned forward and dropped the three meters to the floor. Not a sound came when his boots touched the hard metal of the floor. He clicked his light on in the dark room and looked around. The light from his helmet shone around the room, casting eerie shadows along the dimly-lit walls. James was frightened, but he shut this out as well. He was a well-trained Spartan, and any pain must be banished from his mind.
It was then that James thought he saw a shimmering in front of him. He stopped abruptly and then the lights snapped on. He clicked off his light and then froze. The shimmering occurred again to his right and the Spartan Commander unholstered his M6D pistol and aimed it at the movement, which quickly vanished. James looked around more, waving the gun in all directions. Then, his head snapped up as the shimmer came directly at his face. He was picked from the ground and thrown backwards. He landed on a large object on the floor that was rectangular and rather large, skidded across it, and thumped hard to the floor. As he was picking himself up, something seemed to grab him, but he still couldn't see his attacker. The thing raised him into the air and flung him across the room. James flew far and slammed into a raised pillar jutting from the floor. He slumped to the floor in a heap. Then, he realized what it was. A Spec Ops Elite was cloaked and attacking him.
James leapt up and saw the shimmer coming for him. He aimed a punch right at where he guessed was the waist. When the blow connected, he heard a sparking and a small explosion erupted from the belt. The Elite's cloaking failed and he appeared as he stumbled backwards. James started to move forward but was tripped by something. He gasped and clattered to the floor. He spun around and looked up to see a bright beam illuminate itself. A plasma sword belonging to another Spec Ops Elite! There were two of them!
The second Elite aimed a swing down at James, but the Spartan leaped backwards, landing on his boots. The bladed Elite swung again, but James reached out and caught his arm. He held it fast and then used his knee to slam the Elite where his cloaking device was, knocking it out. James kept his hold on the Elite and then kneed him a second and then a third time. He then took out his pistol and shot him right in the face. The Elite clattered backwards and his plasma sword shattered as it hit the ground.
The first Elite jumped up and charged right at James. The crafty Spartan swiveled his pistol and fired two shots at the Elite's chest. The Elite stopped momentarily and staggered backwards (his shields were down) and then resumed his composure. James raised his MA5B assault rifle and opened fire right at the Elite's chest. Howling in pain, the subdued warrior collapsed to the floor, twitched, and died. James slammed a fresh clip of ammo into the gun and then moved into the room beyond—the bridge.
On the ground, Alex lowered himself to the grass after watching Farr take off and looked to his comrade. "Looks like we're stuck here for some time. The Commander ordered us not to follow him under any circumstances. He needed us to remain on the ground, but what for I don't know."
A distant rumbling filled their ears, and the ground beneath their boots began to move. Bryce spoke up quickly. "I think we're about to find out!" Just then, a Covenant Banshee screamed over the treetops, flying rather low and coming right for the Spartans. Alex motioned to Bryce, and the two of them raised the assault rifles they'd found in the Warthog. In unison, they began to fire upon the Banshee. Whoever was flying was obviously skilled, because the aircraft began to weave in and out of the bullets, not letting a single one touch it. "We can't score a hit, General!" Bryce yelled as the 7.62mm bullets firing at thirteen armor- piercing rounds per second continued to fly.
"Cancel the firing! I'm going to use the Scorpion. You get the LAAG." Alex jumped into the Scorpion and swiveled the turret so that it face towards the Banshee that was circling around to come in and attack again. Bryce clambered up and manned the LAAG gun, moving the turret so it, too, faced the incoming Banshee. As Alex opened fire with the mini-gun, Bryce pressed down on the trigger and it started to hammer away relentlessly. However, it seemed that no matter how they fired their weapon, the Banshee could always evade them. It moved around mini-gun, LAAG, and explosive shells from the Scorpion.
The Banshee was headed straight for the Scorpion. The fuel rod cannon on its end started to charge. Alex realized he stood no chance after the battering from plasma and jumped to the ground again. The fuel rod cannon shuddered, exploded, and then fired the large bolt of energy. "We'll never get away in time!" Bryce cried.
"Stay on the Warthog!" Alex shouted. He sprinted for it, leaped, and landed face-first in it. He found himself facing the pedal and reached out his hand. Alex pressed the pedal down, and the wheels squealed and caught the dirt just as the Scorpion exploded in a fury of metal and fire. The Warthog pulled away from the inferno in the nick of time, ripping across the ground followed by a wave of fire. When the wave died down, Alex released the accelerator and pressed hard on the brake. He slowly stood and dropped to the ground. Bryce moved the LAAG and began to fire again.
Alex slammed a fresh clip into his rifle and raised it, again firing at the Banshee. The crafty vehicle swooped under the hail of bullets and headed straight for Alex. The wing was coming right at his head. Before he could duck, the Banshee was in his face. He reached up his arm and snatched onto the short, stubby wing. He was instantly swept from the ground as Bryce still fired the LAAG. "Get me down!" Alex roared.
Bryce hopped to the ground and activated a plasma grenade. Using all his strength, he hurled it up at the receding shape of the Banshee. With a minute click, the grenade latched on and started its three second fuse. "Not a grenade!" Alex cried. The top of the Banshee flew open and a Flood combat form leaped from it and plummeted towards the ground. Then, the grenade went off.
The Banshee's left side completedly shattered. Alex struggled with himself to keep the Banshee flying as he watched the Flood land below him.
Jason roared at the top of his lungs and charged forward. Bryce raised his assault rifle and let it rip. Bullets flew through the air towards Jason, but the nimble Flood leapt to the side and used his vinelike fingers to trip the Spartan, sending him painfully to the ground. "Nice try," Jason growled. "I can see you're as clumsy as you've ever been!" Then he laughed in a gurgling, rippling way, his tentacles moving around his body menacingly as he approached the fallen warrior. "Your time has come!"
Bryce looked behind him towards the line of trees. As he watched, the trees began to vibrate, and then infection form Flood started to pour from the gathering of trees, flowing like water into the field. They were screeching and howling, thirsting for the Spartans' blood. Moving with the speed no human could match, the twenty-one-tentacled beasts flooded from the forest, hence their name, and moved right for the Spartans. "Oh, no."
Jason moved into the swarm and raised his claws to the sky. "Let them feast on your rotting bones!"
The MA5B assault rifle, fully loaded, snapped up and started to fire. The bullets moved extremely quickly, and popped the infection forms like balloons, making them explode and cause a chain reaction that killed others in the proximety. An MA5B was the first choice weapon for fighting infection Flood, and Bryce used it to his full advantage, not shooting at each Flood, but sweeping the gun around to ensure he popped every single one of the little buggers coming his way. However, even though he was making a significant dent in the middle numbers, more Flood would wrap around the outsides and attack from behind in a classic pincer movement.
Alex headed straight for the Flood, trying to move the Banshee. As it neared three meters from the ground, Alex dropped, rolled, and jumped to his feet again. The Banshee clattered to the ground several feet from him. Alex pulled out his assault rifle and began spraying the masses with the fast-firing bullets as well, following suit with Bryce and shooting while sweeping his gun across the front ranks.
1508 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Fifty meters in the air on the bridge of the UNSC battle cruiser Pillar of Winter
James peered into the room beyond, letting his visor scan every detail of the large bridge. He wanted to make sure he took out the six Howlers quickly and efficiently, not letting a single one dent his armor at all. He would need them if he was to have a visit inside the core and live to tell the tale.
One Howler was obviously the leader, as he was sitting in the CO's chair, and after several minutes of analysis, James established he was called Targon by the other Howlers. Silently slipping his finger inside the pin of an M9 HE-DP grenade, called a fragmentation grenade by most Marines (or a frag grenade), he yanked the pin and counted to himself. Four... He rolled the grenade under the chair of a Howler who was sitting at the weapons station.
Three...
The Howler looked down after hearing the rolling and moved about, trying to locate the sound of the noise. Then, he looked under his desk.
Two...
Failing to find the noise-making object, the Howler looked then under his partner's chair, still baffled as to what had made the noise.
One...
The Howler then looked under his own chair, and spotted the frag grenade resting calmly in place. He then noticed that the pin was missing, and realized he had heard the sound several seconds beforehand.
Zero.
The grenade went off with the force of a Jackhammer, throwing the chair it was under into the air. The Howler who had noticed the grenade went up in flames instantly, and his buddy was tossed across the room, a burn etched into his side. He didn't move.
"Ambush!" Targon cried, ducking behind his chair.
James rolled behind a computer and then popped over the top. His pistol flashed up as well and he fired once. He caught a Howler in the chest, and the being dropped backwards, howling in pain. James spun to the left several inches and fired again. He laid the fourth Howler down with a shot to the chest.
The Spartan ran forward and punched Targon with his M6D. The Howler screamed aloud and fell backwards. When he landed, James kicked him again and he went sprawling backwards. "On your feet, filth!" James spat, leveling the gun right at the Howler's skull. He clicked the ammo release and slammed in a fresh clip. "Up!" he yelled curtly.
"You know who I am?" Targon shouted, enraged. "I am—"
James shot him in the leg with his pistol to silence him. "I don't give a rat's ass who you are, Covenant filth!" he spat. "Up on your feet!" he growled.
"There's one problem," Targon said calmly through the pain of the bullet in his leg that was ebbing and spattering blood onto the deck. "You missed one."
James's eyes went wide and he spun around. A Howler was standing behind him with a devilish grin on his ugly face. "Kee-ROWWWWWWWWWW!" The blast impacted right on the Spartan's stomach, lifted him off his feet, and sent him right for the bulkhead of the ship. He did not stop there; the blast sent him through the bulkhead and out into the air. He was unconscious, and plummeting down to the ground at an increasing rate.