0113 hours, March 30, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) • Forerunner vessel, high-orbit, Earth.
The Master Chief clenched his fist at the realization of his recent discovery. Even if Earth's defenses managed to stop the Covenant onslaught, if the Flood managed to find a way to Earth's surface... John shuddered in thought of the outcome. He began crawling through the Flood-infested portion of the ship, feeling unsafe even as his body was protected by multi-layered MJOLNIR armor. As with all Spartans, he was most comfortable fighting with solid ground under his feet.
After creeping through the subsystems of the Forerunner ship for nearly an hour, John saw a light filtering through a duct in the tunnel. His eyes and visor began to adjust to light once again.
The Chief kicked open the panel and crawled into open space. An explosion rocked the side of the alien spacecraft, sending John spiraling to his side. The battle for Earth had begun. In the next room, several Engineers rushed to repair the damage that had been sustained from one of Earth's Magnetic Accelerator Cannons. Fires erupted from the Forerunner ship's control systems as debris was hurled into outer space.
A trio of Jackals stood in the corner of the room, giving the Engineers orders. John primed a grenade and flung it into the center of the group, sending two Jackals to their death. The remaining one ran within its ranks, taking cover behind a Covenant weapons crate. A burst of plasma finally silenced the unruly creature.
Four Brutes marched into the Forerunner room to inspect the damage caused by the MAC gun. A Brute turned and opened fire with its Brute shot, sending lethal grenades into the air. The Chief rolled to the side to evade the ensuing explosions, firing as he dodged. The Brutes answered with a barrage of plasma fire, draining John's shields down to a quarter. John clicked the activation switch on a plasma grenade and threw it into the center of the enemy group. A howl indicated that it had found its target. The grenade detonated, scattering debris over the room. Two bodies of Brutes were flung to the ground, lifeless. Of the two remaining Brutes, only one was battle ready, casting aside its weapons and charging towards the Chief. The other knelt down on one knee, shedding blood from a dozen different wounds.
The berserker Brute was almost upon John when another explosion threw it off balance. The Brute looked up from the ground, its face distorted with anger. Before it could regain its footing, a side of the Forerunner ship tore open, leaving a void in its midst. Wreckage was scattered everywhere, and debris was thrown into outer space. The mortally wounded Brute was hurled into outer space, howling one last cry. The other roared as the room depressurized. It grasped on to the Chief, clinging for its life. John grasped a control panel with one hand and drew his plasma rifle with the other. The Brute uttered a silent roar in the emptiness of vacuum. Plasma impacted his face and shoulders, sending it on the Great Journey prematurely.
John slowly crept towards the one of the exits of the room, careful not to lose his grip. One mistake and he would be flung into the void. Even with his oxygen-recycling suit, he would not last long in the harshness of space. The first exit was locked to prevent depressurization of other areas of the ship. The second door was damaged from the force of the explosion, and flew into outer space, narrowly missing the Chief. John slowly made his way through the hall until finally, the door locked behind him and the room was pressurized once again.
The Chief gasped for air inside his helmet. He wished Cortana was with him. She would have said something to make him forget about his weariness. John came upon a lift and punched the control panel, sending the elevator launching upward. Through a large glass section of the lift he was able to realize the magnitude of this battle.
John wondered where the shots had come from. Was the life of a Spartan an equal trade for that of the Prophet Truth? John's equipment intercepted a transmission came in from a UNCS ship, from Admiral Terrance Hood.
Hold your fire. We've got the Chief on that ship!
Static flared in John's headset.
A Spartan? What's he doing there? All UNSC destroyers hold your fire!
Ironically, one commander's mistake might have saved John's life. If humanity trusted the Chief's ability to stop Truth from reaching Earth, he would have to everything in his power to make sure that their trust was not misplaced. The Chief glanced out the window once more, his teeth gritted.
The fleet was enormous; ten times the size of the armada that had conquered Reach. The UNSC had many warships as well, pulling all their resources from the inner colonies to help defend their treasured homeworld. Even with Earth's orbital defenses, it would soon be overrun by the Covenant, glassed by alien warships. Most of the alien warships were Covenant cruisers, but some were different. They seemed to resemble a civilian transport craft, used to ferry men from one world to the next. John wondered if the Covenant were planning a massive ground assault of Earth.
John glanced out the window once more. The UNSC destroyer Resolution took a hit from a Covenant ship's plasma torpedo. Explosions took place along the bridge of the ship, reaching the fuel cells. The ship detonated in a fiery grave. John looked past the explosion of the ship, taking note of the men and women who had died fighting for humanity. Something wasn't right. Phantoms flew into the Earth's atmosphere, deploying troops.
This happened on Reach too. John thought. The Covenant did not fully glass Reach. Usually, they followed a crisscrossing pattern that started at the poles and ended at the equator, making sure every square centimeter was cleansed of life. They did not do this to Reach because there was a sacred artifact on it, the "Luminous Key", which was able to distort the properties of slip-space. Was there something on Earth sacred to the Covenant as well?
A howl echoed through the Forerunner ship, bringing John to his senses. The lift came to a stop soon after. The electrical systems of the vessel were malfunctioning due to damage, and lights flickered on and off throughout the next hallway. Another resounding scream reached John's ears, closer now. John reached an entrance to the next room. John crept through the entrance, and witnessed a crowd of seven or eight groups, all crowded around a creature. The life form was so distorted John could barely pick out that it had formerly been an Elite.
"Where are your allies?" the head of the Brute group questioned, holding an iron bar in his hands.
The Elite spoke very weakly. "Open your eyes. The Prophets deceive you."
The Brute pressed the bar to the Elite's chest, producing a strange hissing noise. Steam rose from the Elite's chest. The Elite screamed and thrashed in its restraints.
"Insert the serum," The Brute shouted. "We will quell this heresy, one way or another."
A needle was jabbed into the Elite's neck.
"Your sacrilege poses a threat to the Great Journey," The Brute snarled. "You will tell us the location of your brethren."
The Elite groaned, a thin trail of spittle running from its mouth.
"We will punish your dissident people. The Jiralhanae now rule the Covenant. Now speak!" The Brute roared.
"The Heretics... took camp on Basis. Traveled to one of the rings... hid from enemies. The Flood attacked... I am the only known survivor..." the Elite opened his mouth once more but managed to form no words.
The Brute roared and punched the Elite across the face. Blood gushed from the corner of its eye.
John inched closer to the interrogation. From this distance, he was able to see that the creature being questioned was no ordinary Elite. Its bronze armor shone in the dim light, and several prongs extended from its back. Gruesome burn marks crossed the Elite's chest.
"You Sangheili are worthless," The Brute snarled. "They alone are useless, but Heretics like you deserve a fate worse than death."
The Commander turned to leave, bringing his two bodyguards with him.
One of his guards whispered in his ear, "There is still the issue of the Demon,"
"The Demon? Let him come before us. He will be crushed just as the rest," The Commander answered, stomping the ground.
The three Brutes left, leaving odds that John could fare against effectively. After the door sealed, the Chief rose from his cover, using his beam rifle to score two precise shots with one Brute, crushing its skull. The Brutes turned and opened fire, draining John's shields to a third. He removed the pin from a fragmentation grenade and tossed it over his shoulder, landing at the feet of a Brute. The grenade exploded upward, bringing blood with it. The Brute shrieked and collapsed to the floor, a hole torn in his side.
The Chief ran from his cover, picking up a second plasma rifle on his way. John aimed the rifles at one Brute, knowing that three enemies and one dead were easier to deal with than four slightly wounded, not to mention pissed off opponents. The Brute took aim but had no time to fire as bolts of plasma crashed into his skin. The Brute stumbled towards the Chief in one last action, then fell to the ground.
A group of Jackals marched through the far door, joining the fray. They fell into formation in front of the Brutes, providing cover fire. John tossed a grenade in front of the Jackals, scattering their formation. Bursts of plasma silenced two of the Jackals. The rest fell from the Chief's concentrated fire. Both of John's plasma rifles began to overheat, dumping plasma discharge into the air. He threw one aside and threw another grenade into the group.
The aliens remained scattered and unorganized in the midst of the explosions. John took advantage of this, drawing his beam rifle and pulling off four precise shots. Two Brutes fell to the ground, spewing blood from wounds in their heads. John turned, searching for the final Brute. The last Brute emerged from his cover, rearing to its full seven-foot height.
John managed two shots from his beam rifle, ripping through the Brute's chest. The Brute paused briefly, its hand clutching its wounds. John grasped his beam rifle, ready to deliver the deathblow. He pulled the trigger, waiting for a fatal shot to tear through the Brute's body. Nothing happened. John checked the energy meter on his HUD. It read empty. He tossed the rifle aside and drew his plasma rifle. The Brute was upon him, smacking the weapon out of John's hand. The Brute raised his hand over his head, ready to crush the Spartan soldier.
The Brute suddenly howled in anger and fell to its knees, its face contorted in pain. John stared in disbelief, unable to understand what had happened. Behind the Brute's body, the tortured Elite lay dying, its hands clutched around the grip of a plasma rifle.
"Demon... "It said weakly. "I would rather die at the hands of a Human warrior than that of this hated race..." Blood rose from the Elite's mouth. The carbine dropped from its hands. John bid the Elite silent gratitude. He moved closer to inspect the creature, which was no regular Elite. The Brutes had mentioned Heretics. So some of the Covenant might have witnessed the truth. Before he could think any further, a voice called out.
"Demon," Another Heretic Elite lay in the corner of a detention cell, its chest also crisscrossed with marks from torture. "He is dead, isn't he..." The Elite said, gesturing towards the body of his brother.
"Yes..." John said cautiously.
"His passing will not go unnoticed," the Elite said, closing his eyes. "Demon, the Heretics have broken their ties to the Covenant long ago." The Heretic said, lifting a Brute plasma rifle. "I will fight along your side." The Heretic raised the weapon and took aim, John tracking his every move. The Heretic fired behind him, and a Jackal fell to the ground, its shield sparking and dispersing into the air.
"We must not let Truth reach the Ark," The Heretic kicked the carcass of the Jackal aside.
"What?" John said in disbelief. "What is the Ark?"
"The Ark," The Heretic answered, "is a place where all the Sacred Rings may be activated remotely. It is also your homeworld, Earth."