The Covenant Civil War: Part Four

Deep inside the bowels of the enormous Dreadnaught Rivalry, the Arbiter sat in the meditation chamber.
There are many Elites around him, all silent and meditating on the floor. They didn't believe in the Prophets, but they believed in the Forerunners, who they still hailed as gods.
The Arbiter was not contacting his ancestors however. He was thinking about the parasite. He was still shaken by his encounter with the fearsome beasts, on board the Brute ship. The Rivalry cruised through space slowly, before coming to a site the Arbiter knew all too well. It was a giant ring in space, with a surface that was a pattern of green, blue, brown, white, and more. These were dense jungles and forests, clear blue seas, freezing ice plateaus, and vast deserts.
Halo.
The Arbiter felt a warm sensation inside him. This ring meant many things to him. He had mixed feelings about it.
He had failed to protect the first Halo, and as punishment was tortured and branded with the Mark of Shame. However, his most glorious battles took place on this Halo: against the Brutes, exterminating the parasite, slaying Tartarus-whatever .The Rivalry was clearly going to drop them on the ring.
"Attention. All members of Fate's Hammer strike team proceed to the gravlift. "The Commander said over the intercom.

Quite a while later, the Arbiter was at the gravlift. He checked his grenades and made sure he had as much ammo as he could carry for his carbine. Then, the Spec.Ops Commander walked into the room.
"We're going to drop you for a heavy assault mission on a Brute fortress. Not a base, a FORTRESS! Be on the alert. It is heavily armed and the soldiers are well-equipped. The reason we are not blowing it to smithereens with this ship is because we want to capture it for our own. Chances of survival are minimal...however, you are the best of the best, afraid of nothing! For eons, soldiers and warriors have fought for or against the Covenant, attracted by promises of spiritual or overall glory. The first conflict on Halo was a great blow to us, and entire armada, destroyed. But we survived...to fight another day! Go my warriors, slay the enemy!" The Spec.Ops Commander said, and then the gravlift opened, and the members of Fate's Hammer strike team were dropped by the gravlift.

As soon as they hit the ground, it seemed, the firefight began.
The Brutes opened fire with their devastating weapons, Brute shots rained down hellfire upon the strike team's members. A Hunter nearby was struck by several plasma blasts and a Brute grenade, and it went tumbling over backwards, crushing several Grunts.
"Suppress the enemy!" The Arbiter roared, firing his carbine out into the midst of the smoke.
The Elites did as they were told, and fired upon the Brutes so that most took cover. Those that didn't were picked off by the snipers covering the rear flanks of Fate's Hammer.
The Brutes now were spending more time taking cover than firing, and the Elites began to pepper their hiding positions with plasma grenades. Many Brutes were crushed or injured by large barrels or weapon holsters that they were hiding behind. The Arbiter loaded a fresh clip into his carbine and continued firing. Another Elite was killed by several red plasma bolts to the chest, another had his arm blown off by a Brute grenade. Things looked grim for both sides, and the battle hadn't been going for even 15 minutes.
The Arbiter took cover behind a weapons holster, and when the Brutes were suppressed enough, he would pick them off with his carbine. He saw one chance left: an all-out assault.
"Assault their position!" The Arbiter screamed over the sounds of plasma bolts, exploding grenades and the cries of dying soldiers.
The Elites, Hunters and Grunts that were left dashed for the Brutes, who were delivering a withering hail of plasma blasts and grenades.
Tons of soldiers fell dead on the ground during the charge. The Arbiter fired his carbine at a Brute who was berserking, and the shot entered the back of the neck, ripping through the windpipe and esophagus and killing the beast. The Brutes made an attempt to retreat, but the snipers and main infantry were all over them in seconds. The Arbiter fired multiple times at a Brute that was heroically charging them. The shots all hit him in the chest, and he fell down, dead, face-down in a pool of his own blood.
The battle was over, but they had not taken the fortress.
The Arbiter looked around...
There were 3 members of Fate's Hammer left, out of the 45 that went down from the gravlift. The Arbiter knew they could not take the base...there was no hope left.
The remaining 2 Elites and the 1 Grunt looked around at the devastation. The Arbiter saw Field Commander Zarg on the ground, heavily wounded by plasma bolts, and unconscious.
"Okay, so there are four left..."The Arbiter said to himself. He walked over to Zarg.
"We need Zarg back on the Rivalry...come, my brothers." The Arbiter said, picking up Zarf's unconscious body. He walked amongst the bodies...
He saw Zuka Zamamee, the sarcastic, happy Elite, dead on the ground, a gaping hole in his stomach.
He saw Yuuk, the Grunt who was always acting funny or scared to keep Fate's Hammer entertained, lying dead with one of his legs blown off.
He saw Sesa Yaseem, the serious, hardcore, warrior Elite, dead with one of his arms bitten up and scratched, and his ribcage torn open by a Brute grenade. The Arbiter could tell it was a grenade from the shrapnel in his torn apart chest.
This was a sad place now.
The Spec.Ops Commander's pep talk back on the ship had incited all these soldiers to fight for glory, and for the Elite Alliance.
They fought, and died, as they were born to do.
They were hopefully in the realm of the gods now, at peace forever, thier task in this world completed...
The Arbiter and the 3 others boarded the gravlift. The Arbiter took one last look at the bodies.
He knew it was destiny that they fought and died this day.This was a fast, bloody skirmish.The fortress wasn't theirs yet...
But it would be soon.
The Arbiter felt his whole body shake, and he was sucked up into the ship via the gravlift.
Zarg was rushed to the infirmary as soon as they were back on the ship.
The Arbiter sighed to himself, his head hung low.
He shook his head, still mourning for his brothers. He felt that this was his fault, that he had been the one who told them to assault the Brutes.
There might have been more soldiers left alive, but it was his decision.
He placed his carbine in the armory, fully loaded and ready to go. His ammunition cartridges he kept, however.
He strode towards the meditation chamber. Upon arrival, he sat down among the other Elites, cleared his mind about the friends he lost, and meditated, his mind drifting towards the gods, to the place where his brothers now dwelt for eternity. He hoped they did not blame him for their death. He felt their spirits in the realm of the gods, forever at peace.

To be continued……