–40–

Damon fumbled with his weapon, nearly dropping it. He steadied his hands and aimed down sights. "The hell is this?"

Jacen backed up, grabbing Naomi and easing her behind him.

Ross turned around, holding her hands up. She stood between the Elite and Damon. "Corporal, put your weapon down!"

"Damn that," Damon declined. "You brought us here to free this thing?"

Ross took a step closer to Damon, hands by her side but palms up. "I know this seems crazy, but he's not a threat to us. I'll tell you everything, but first we need to get him out."

Damon kept his weapon raised. "He's not a threat? So I guess we're just gonna ignore 30 years of war and genocide?"

"I'm not asking you to," Ross said. Voices distorted with static came through the fallen jackal's comm, angry and restless. Not much time. "Things are different now. You have to trust me."

"Different how?" Jacen asked. "We don't even know you and you're asking us to trust you in bringing that thing with us?"

Ross turned her shoulders, pointing her hands back toward the Elite. "He's the key to everything we've been looking for. He'll help us."

"Help us? Naomi stepped out from behind Jacen. "Your wires are all the way crossed. It'll kill us as soon as we let it go. If this is PTSD, lady, just say that. No judgment."

Ross shook her head as she ran her hands through her hair. The words were blurted out in an instant, gone before her mind could catch up to her mouth. "The war is over!"

Damon froze, while Jacen and Naomi looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Say again?" Damon asked, leaning toward the Captain.

Ross exhaled. There was no putting the words back in her mouth now. "The war is over… and we won."

The words seemed unrealistic, a sick joke that wouldn't yield a laugh. It was a statement difficult to believe, to grasp the reality without war. The Covenant had been such a domineering juggernaut for decades, eviscerating humanity with little resistance. Was it even possible to beat the extraterrestrial foe, the armada that was so advanced beyond human capabilities that survival was the only option to success? Billions dead, dozens of worlds glassed. It was too good to be true.

"You've been isolated like us, so how would you know?" Damon wanted to know.

Ross gestured behind her. "He told me. I didn't believe him at first, but he showed me the evidence. It's real; the war is done."

Jacen lowered his weapon, his head tilted back with closed eyes as Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Ma'am, with respect, you can't be that gullible," Damon said. "I don't know everything you've experienced here, but it's obviously affecting your judgement. You're being manipulated into letting him go. These are your options—come with us to safety or you can stay here with your new friend and probably die. I prefer the latter not to happen, but I will leave you here if it means protecting ourselves."

There was silence between them, a wordless debate fought with their eyes. It was presumptuous in Damon's mind for the Captain to expect he'd blindly believe her words, to follow her direction without question. They wore the same uniform, pledged the same allegiance to protect Earth and her colonies, but he wasn't about to relinquish common sense to two adjoined silver bars underneath the body armor of Ross. A bad idea was still a bad idea, even from a superior.

"Foolish."

Damon, Jacen, and Naomi perked up from the voice, something deep and resonating that vibrated in their chests. Ross turned in the direction of the voice with relief in her eyes.

The Elite rose its head slowly, its beady bronze eyes seemingly looking through them. He closed his four mandibles, breathing in a sample of air. "The beasts have your scent. Your argument has ended your time. It is done."

Ross walked up to the field. "It's not done. I said I was getting you out. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"They have our scent?" Damon came up beside Ross. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

Damon felt something inside of him shift when the Elite made eye contact with him. An unsettling, primal stare that ignited the instinctual flight or flight response within him.

"No time remains," the Elite said.

Ross turned and grabbed Damon by his arm, preparing to speak before a thunderous roar sounded somewhere inside the camp. She refocused. "Corporal, listen to me, we're out of time. We need to find the power source to his cell. If we disable it, we can get him out. We can't fight our way out without him."

"If we leave right now, we can," Jacen said.

"Corporal," Ross yelled. The roars intensified. "You can trust him. I promise you that. Help me!"

Naomi readied her weapon, running to cover that faced the entryway. "We gotta go, Vash! If she wants to stay, let her stay."

"Everyone, shut up!" Damon shouted. He looked at Ross, running through the various emotions that flowed through him. His vision swapped between Ross and the Elite, eventually settling on the imprisoned alien. It looked at him with unmoving mandibles and unblinking eyes. Damon took a few steps back."I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't."

"Then you've killed us, Corporal," Ross said.

The doors burst open in a hail of plasma bolts. Grunts and Jackals came through, five in total, and immediately took cover as they fired. The two Jackals separated, moving to opposite sides of the room as the three Grunts kept suppressing fire.

Ross and Damon went to cover, returning fire. He looked back at the Elite for a split second. It was still staring at him. He looked at the border of the cell, seeing thick power conduits leading off in another direction.

He pulled Ross down back into cover. "I think I can disable the power to the cell. But listen to me—one act of aggression towards us and I'm blowing that thing's head off. Understand?"

"You have my word," Ross said. "He won't hurt us."

"Yeah, we'll see." Damon leaned out of cover and fired until his rifle was empty. When the Grunts took cover, he shouted to Naomi and Jacen. "Pearce, Diaz—fall back on me!"

Jacen and Naomi shot more suppressing fire and backed their way to the others to regroup. The Grunts pushed up as the Jackals remained where they were, eyes locked in their scopes.

"What's the plan?" Jacen asked. "We can't stay here."

Damon primed his only frag grenade and tossed it near the Grunts. "Stay low and follow me!"

The grenade bounced once and then rolled in an oval shape before detonating. One of the Grunts yelped, the blast steering off its breathing apparatus and pieces of its armor.

Damon led the way, frantically following the conduit until it led them through an entryway where the door was ajar. He slid the door open the rest of the way, waving for the other three to get inside before he released it.

He turned around to see that everyone was silent, standing around an hourglass-shaped device that was less than half a meter tall. It generated an intense yellow-orange light with a core that emitted tiny bolts of power like lightning. The conduit was connected to it at its base.

Naomi kept her distance, walking around the device like an inquisitive feline. "What is this thing?"

"It's gotta be the power source," Ross said. She stopped herself from smiling.

Jacen walked away from the device and stood guard at the door, peeking through the opening. "Yeah, but to what exactly?"

Damon had trouble finding the words. "It'll disable the field and… release the prisoner."

Naomi squatted to the floor and covered her face with her hands. "Oh, you can't be serious right now?"

"Damon, that thing will kill us on sight," Jacen said. "We can't do it. It's crazy."

"He won't," Ross ensured. "I spent nearly 3 months in a cell with him. I thought he would kill me too, but he didn't. There is more at stake here than you realize."

"Lady, give it a rest," Naomi snapped. "We already know where you stand."

"I don't see another option," Damon admitted. "We're not making it out like this. If it makes a move, put it down; but for now, let's be ready for anything. Now, how do we turn this thing off?"

"Whatever you're doing, do it faster." Jacen shouldered his weapon. "They're on us."

Plasma fire splashed against the door, boiling through to the other side. Jacen returned fire the best he could, but the thin opening restricted his view. Damon left the side of Ross and aided Jacen. The Grunts had pushed up to beyond the Elite's cell, just two cubicles away from reaching them. Damon took a knee below where Jacen was standing, firing at a Grunt in his line of sight. His bullets made contact, but bounced harmlessly off the sturdy silver armor of the stocky alien.

There was a flash of crimson light that filled Damon's vision, blinding him. An intense burning sensation shot up through his hands and arms as he fell back on the floor. He ripped his helmet off and threw it aside, covering his eyes with his hands while screaming.

Jacen slung his shotgun over his shoulder, grabbed Damon underneath his arms, and dragged him away from the door. It was a helluva shot. One of the Jackals blew the Corporal's rifle from his hands, vaporizing it, and neatly melted through his helmet. . Damon dared to open his stinging eyes, his vision blurred. He only saw discolored blobs hovering over him with voices.

"Damon, Damon, you're okay! Just stay down." Jacen left him and went back to the door. His heart launched into his throat as a Grunt was standing directly there, reaching its arm inside to grab him.

"I'll get you! I'll get you!" The Grunt screamed.

Jacen aimed his shotgun point blank, pulled the trigger, and watched the Grunt's head explode like a melon. Its body somersaulted backwards and settled on its stomach. He moved back into cover, reloading the last of his 12 shells. "You mind hurrying it up back there?"

Naomi looked up from the device. "Boy, do I look like I work in extraterrestrial IT?"

"There has to be some type of switch or something." Ross examined every inch of the alien tech, running her hands across the angular design and indentations within the metal. There was nothing on the surface that resembled an 'off' or 'on' switch, just ridged metal and hard light. She kicked the machine.

A roar came from outside the room that chilled them to their bones. The plasma fire ceased and the Grunts squeaked and squealed jibberish. Jacen slowly leaned forward to steal a glance.

"Oh sh*t."

A hulking beast entered the room, an 8 foot behemoth with matted brown fur, an ape face, and fanged jaws. It was nothing but muscle, built like a slab of reinforced concrete with arms and legs. It didn't sport much armor, only wearing armor plates on its shoulders, forearms, waist, and thighs. A bandolier was across its chest, stocked with ammo that Jacen couldn't see.

It sniffed the air twice, its lips curling back with a growl and looked in the direction of the room. Jacen pulled back from the door. A single, superheated metal projectile pierced the door, inches from Jacen's face. It cooled after a few seconds into a grey alloy.

"Came from hiding, female?" the Brute called out.

Ross swallowed hard, gripping her weapon tight. She took a few steps toward the doorway, moving in front of Jacen to see for herself. A rage broiled inside of her. "Unfinished business!"

The Brute grinned a toothy smile and laughed. "Allow me to finish it for you."

The Elite raised his head and looked at them.

The Brute hollered a battle cry and charged them, firing his hacksaw-looking weapon. Spikes struck the door and inside the room, boring into the walls and slicing through objects.

"Hell no, I'm not fighting that." Jacen ran up to the device and aimed his weapon at it. "Move!"

Naomi cleared the space before Jacen fired. It took three direct shots before power node failed; the light within sparking before it eventually died. By that time, the Brute was already at the door, tearing it off the track and bending it back like it was made of sheet metal.

"Weapons free!" Ross shouted.

Damon snatched his sidearm from his holster, clicked off the safety, and emptied the magazine with the others.

The Brute raised its left forearm, taking the majority of rounds to its armor plating. The rounds that made contact had little effect, only penetrating in the shallow flesh of its tough hide. Tiny streams of purplish-red blood leaked from the wounds. The Brute pulled back in cover, blind firing his weapon in every direction.

One of the projectiles careened by Naomi, slicing across her left shoulder. The impact ripped the skin open and cauterized it instantly. She yelped and dropped to her knees. Fought through it. She reloaded her last magazine and fired short bursts, moving laterally across the room until she found cover behind a section of wall that jutted out.

"You good?" Damon called out to her.

Naomi bit down on her lower lip with a grimace. "Just keep shooting the thing"

There was a break in gunfire, with Ross and Damon reloading as Jacen remained where he was in cover. The Brunt rounded the corner and charged them, closing the distance so fast between itself and Ross that she couldn't react. Jacen leaned out to fire, but the Brute swatted him across the room like he weighed like a feather.

The Brute grabbed Ross by her face and slammed her against the wall. She heard something pop, but her screams were muffled by the rank palm covering her face.

"Nowhere to hide now," growled the Brute, increasing the pressure around Ross's face.

Naomi took aim at the Brute's massive head, above the ear near the temple. She never pulled the trigger.

The Elite entered the room and leapt on the back of the Brute, grabbing it around its shoulders and throwing it to the ground. Ross went flying across the room, hitting the floor, and rolling into the nearby wall.

The Brute righted itself to see its attacker, suddenly ignited with rage to see the captive Sangheili standing free atop it. It tried to stand, but the Elite forced his foot on the Brute's chest to keep it down. The Brute swiped at the Elite's ankle, causing him to stagger. An opening. The Brute launched itself from the floor and dove into the Elite like a torpedo.

Damon crawled out of the way as the two aliens wrestled on the floor beside. There were hard punches thrown, grunts and roars with strain in their voices. The Brute wrapped its hand around the Elite's elongated neck and headbutted him twice. The Elite shook off the initial impact, bashing his forearm into the Brute's face three times.

With the third impact, the Brute sunk its teeth into the Elite's arm, so deep that it nearly reached the bone. The Elite howled, clawing his fingers across the Brute's head to release the beast. It eventually let go, spitting a mouthful of the Elite's own blood in his face and eyes. The Brute rammed its knee into the Elite's gut, shoving him off before grabbing him from behind. The alien beast put the Elite in a stranglehold, enclosing the inner crook of its right arm against the Elite's next. It bit down on the Elite's shoulder to hold him in place as he struggled.

The Elite rammed its elbow into the Brute's midsection repeatedly, but the beast wouldn't relinquish its iron grip. His breath escaped him, the view around him becoming weary and unclear.

Ross sat up from the floor, her left arm radiating pain from the shoulder and was limp. She looked to her left to see Damon in cover. "We have to do something."

Damon looked at her, the lines in his forehead becoming more pronounced. "How? You want me to break it up like a referee?"

"We can't stand here and do nothing," Ross said.

"We absolutely can!" Naomi added.

Ross managed to stand, using the wall to support herself. "If he dies, so do our chances of leaving this moon. You wanna risk that?"

Jacen was sitting behind the single support column in the room, arms resting atop his knees and his head hung low. His ribs felt sore, probably bruised. He had one round left in his shotgun. The Elite was growing weak, its flailing and punching beginning to slow with the lack of oxygen. They couldn't fight the Brute, not on their own. Help the enemy, live for another day. Why not?

"Screw it." Jacen stood up a strain, moving out from behind cover and approached the Brute from behind. He could hear Naomi screaming at him, telling him to get away. Too late now. He aimed the barrel at the exposed leg behind the thigh and fired.

The Brute threw back its head and let out an outcry. Its grip loosened for a moment and the Elite struggled free. The Sangheili curled his long fingers into fists, landing a series of precision blows into the Brute's torso and neck region. The Brute stumbled back from the hits, whimpering and disoriented.

The Elite didn't give the Brute a chance to recover. He looked in Jacen's direction, snatched his shotgun from his hands, and swung the weapon across the Brute's face and ribcage like a one-handed baseball bat.

The final hit split the weapon in half, sending the Brute reeling back and into the wall. It slid down the wall, unconscious with a torn and bloody face.

The Elite dropped the remnants of the shotgun, the inward pieces rolling across the floor as he slowly turned to face Jacen.

Jacen took a few steps back, hands up.

The Elite turned away from him, slowing his labored breathing and stretching his neck with closed eyes. He took in a rattled breath, quietly exhaling as he faced Ross. "The others will come."

Ross limped over to the Elite, hand over her left shoulder. A trickle of blood had run down the side of her face from a laceration at her hairline. "We'll be ready for them, but not yet. We have to leave. Now!"

The Elite looked at her, expressionless as he worked his mandibles. If he was thinking something, he didn't vocalize it. He turned and loped to the other side of the room, a slow gait to a sealed door.

The door was forced open. The Elite stood motionless there. Ross came to his side, looking up at his eyes to see what he was staring at. There were three sets of discarded Sangheili armor strewn about across the floor, scratched and damaged with smears of blood.

Ross dared to touch his arm, but thought better of it. She could hear the Jackals and Grunts murmuring outside. "I promise you that you'll have your opportunity to avenge them. But I need to return to my people first, to tell them everything."

"Captain, if he's coming with us, then we need to go!" Damon said.

Ross touched the Elite's leathery arm, slick with blood and perspiration. "Adar, please. We have to go."

Adar glanced down at where Ross was touching him. His serious eyes met hers, unblinking. "You have kept your word. I will keep mine."

Adar walked into the room, collecting his dark maroon armor and began assembling it across his body. Sections of turquoise light lit up on his infiltration harness and gauntlets as he placed his Corinthian-like helmet over his head.

He came out, giving the human onlookers pause as he appeared like a monument of intimidation that his species inflicted. A silver shimmer flashed across his body as he tested his energy shields.

"Lead the way," he said.