Chapter 4

D +08:27:48 (SPARTAN-316 Mission Clock)/

Pelican Victor 528 crash site, unknown coordinates

Mitchell shook his head. He tried to move his arm, and it stung. He opened his eyes and took a ragged breath. He tasted copper. Mitchell looked around. He was still sitting in the pelican, or what remained of it, anyway. He grabbed hold of the wreckage and took a tentative step forward. It hurt, but he was able to walk. Besides, the pain kept him alert. Walking around the crash site, he salvaged what weapons and ammo he could find and consulted his HUD's topographic map. His suit received the map data and provided a holographic map. Although he couldn't find his precise location, he found the general location he was in and in which direction the base was.

A few meters from his position, he found a working snow-tread equipped all terrain Warthog. As he headed closer, another MJOLNIR-equipped titan and a fatigue-wearing marine moved. He rushed over, whispering, "Are you ok?" Both of them whispered that they were.

"Can you stand? I'll try to get that Warthog up so we can get going." he asked. "Alright" they both replied. They took some of the spare weapons Mitchell found. As they searched the wreckage, they found medical kits and food rations, which they strapped onto the Warthog. Equipped with weapons, they walked toward the Warthog, and took their respective places on the turret and the passenger seat. And with that, they sped off into the snowfield.

Ninth Age of Reclamation, Camp of Recovery / Sol System
Earth, New Delphi, Iceland

Running for his life, Aned 'Risolee tripped over a snow bank. He was held prisoner by those traitorous Brutes. Before being caught by the Brutes, he was a blue-armored engineer, which meant that he was of a minor rank, working on an experimental shield for the humans, "Bravo Base". As the new aliens that landed ripped apart the ranks of the Covenant invasion force, the brutes guarding him were knocked unconscious by a stray plasma grenade. Set free, he jumped into the nearest hole created by a fuel rod gun, he made his way into the snow drift. He managed to steal a Brute Plasma Rifle while escaping, which was now strapped at his side.

Hearing a roar of the all-too familiar Ghost hovercraft, Aned 'Risolee stood up and ran for the Ghost, which was piloted by a brute. Grabbing onto the back fin, he punched the Brute's head until he fell off the Ghost, which Aned then hijacked and rode off following two warthog tracks, which were made by the Warthog that Mitchell was in.

D +09:13:27 (SPARTAN-316 Mission Clock)/

En route to Pelican Charlie 463, unknown coordinates

Mitchell floored the warthog to where he thought the crash was.

"Stupid snow, can't see a single thing." Luke, the other SPARTAN, turned so he's facing Mitchell.

"Mitchell, stow the belly-aching. Just be thankful that we're alive."

"Oh be quiet Luke, stop blabbing. Be thankful that we didn't get stuck with that loud-mouthed marine." replied Mitchell.

"Um…I'm right here."

"Oh…" "Watch out!" screamed the marine. A Hydralisk unburied itself from the frozen tundra, and was almost run over by the warthog. It got hit and was knocked out. "What is that?" whispered the marine.

"My guess, the same thing that attacked bravo base." theorized Mitchell, "And they're everywhere." Luke got out of the passenger's seat and went down to the creature they hit.

"I think the egg-heads at O.N.I. are going to like this one. I never saw it before. Who's going to tie it up though?" inquired Luke. The unified response was, "Not it!"

"Aw come on, I have to tie it myself? Fine." After a few minutes, the creature was hog-tied and left in back with the marine, who felt that he had gotten the worse position of the three.

After an hour of driving, he could see a faint shape on the horizon. It appeared to be gray, and had smoke trailing from it. As they drew nearer, they saw a flare go up into the evening sky. As they neared, they could hear the cheers as they saw the small trio of survivors. They parked the Warthog to the left of the Pelican's "tail", and got out.

"Hey Mitch, you got a working radio in that thing? Our Warthog is nothing but rubble" The marine pointed to the smoking wreckage a couple feet away.

"By the way, my name's Sergeant Ryan Ashcroft, commanding officer of the survivors. We hope to contact our eggheads at the Arctic Research Station, or A.R.S. for short." informed the marine, "I have reason to believe that the surviving marines from Bravo Base went there."

"I'll check the radio, Sergeant, while you organize the supplies. We have to be ready for anything."

"Affirmative, Mitch, I'll get right on it." confirmed Ryan, and he left to rally the supplies. Mitchell, on the other hand, got back in the Warthog. Taking a quick glance at the matte-black console and radio, he took a quick preliminary glance. No obvious physical damage, I'll try it, Mitchell thought. Pressing the "ON" button, he ran a diagnostic on the COMM. relay. Hearing a crackle from the speakers, he grabbed the mike and searched for the frequency the UNSC Cobra used. Finally identifying the elusive frequency, he contacted the cruiser.

"Captain Nathan? Can you hear me? This is Mitchell 316. Does anyone copy?"

"Affirmative, Mitchell, good to hear from you. How are you doing?"

"Not good, the pelicans Victor 528 and Charlie 463 that my team and another squad rode on have been disabled by some new suicide units from those aliens Bravo Base encountered. We ran over a different type of alien on the way to the pelican Charlie 463 crash site. We tied it up for those scientists at the A.R.S. and O.N.I.. How's it going up their?"

"Well, not much happened since you left, but we'll keep our heads alert…what the, I have to contact you. Something just left slipspace. Nathan out."

Placing the COMM. on the receiver, wondered what could've happened. Beep…beep insistently rang his suit's com system. NEW MESSAGE FROM A.R.S.. (URGENT) Mitchell chinned the message and read the message.

Arctic Research Station (Alpha)
Date: 12 February 2580 (Military Calendar)
Encryption Code: Red
Public Key: file/ Betgora Core

From: (AI) Juno, Assistant of Dr. Alexander Smith

To: SPARTAN-316, COMM. officer on the UNSC Cobra

Subject: Recent Discoveries Report

/open file/

/Begin Message/

Hello, Dr. Smith has gotten into a bit of trouble. The senile old man has discovered an object. Judging by Cortana's Forerunner language translation, the writing around the object states, "Bow down, Reclaimer, for this is the Betgora Core. All who see it will face the judgment of the Forerunner, and find if they are worthy of the quest to reunite it with the Ark." Before we could secure the area, the A.R.S. recalled him back to begin evacuating the area. I'm staying behind at the dig site to keep watch. I hope that you can get over here soon. I don't think that the A.R.S. called him back to make sure that they're safe. See if you can bring some marines too. I'm also sending you the coordinates of this site.

-Juno (AI)

Press ENTER to view linked attachments.

/End Message/

/close file/

Mitchell pondered what the message on the object meant. As his thought's drifted away, the sudden shout of a marine pulled him from his little world of thought.

"What the…Marines! I just got a message from HighCom saying that bogies are approaching from the south. Get ready, we might be in for a fight, though not for another hour or two. Mechanics, see if you can get the pelican up and running. I ran a diagnostic and found that it was in good shape." ordered Sergeant Ashcroft, "We'll try to avoid combat if we can, since we're don't have much salvageable ammo." One of the mechanics cried, "Yes sir!"

"Mitchell, if you have any ideas, I'd like to hear them. I don't know how long the pelican will take to get airborne, so we probably need a diversion."

"Don't worry sergeant, I know just the thing. Do you have any flares and rocket launchers?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm going to divert them to thinking we're somewhere else, hoping for help."

"I sure hope it works, Mitch, or else we're all toast."